


The Wrong Kind of Troll Fetish

by Keolah



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Manipulation, Still Less Creepy than Twilight, Tragic Romance, Trolls, Undead, a bit of humor, trans-species, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:10:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2692481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Keolah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theryn was not a typical rogue, nor was she a typical night elf. Some might say she was excessively fond of trolls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Northrend

Northrend was cold. Fucking cold. Cold enough to freeze your perky elf titties off. Theryn had taken to wearing thick furs while in the frozen north, but sometimes she still felt like her eyes were going to turn into ice crystals in their sockets, and she could not find anything both nimble enough for her fingers and warm enough to keep them from turning into icicles. Sure, maybe she could save up some gold and get something enchanted, but right now she could hardly afford to get a hot meal in her belly. 

"I'm Azeroth's worst thief," Theryn muttered around a spoonful of thin northern stew that contained traces of meat from miscellaneous unidentified animals. 

Theryn was always considered a little strange by the other night elves. While the other young night elves were fencing with wooden swords and makeshift staves, pretending to be mighty druids and warriors, Theryn was making necklaces of fake bones made from wood, mussing up her hair in what she believed were troll styles, and talking in a terrible accent. 

As she grew up, she outgrew her childish games, at least publicly. After all, when she was a child, she had never even seen a real, live troll before, and her exaggerated imitations probably had very little to do with how trolls actually looked and behaved anyway. 

She studied hard to become a great hunter. While she excelled at archery, she never could manage the bond with animals necessary to be a true hunter. Unwilling to console herself with being a mere archer, she attempted to become a rogue instead, and although she did not take to daggers nearly as well as bows, she learned a few things with them, and how to sneak about. It was sufficient to be an adventurer, at least, even if she was unlikely to become Azeroth's greatest hero. 

She'd come to Northrend in hopes of striking it rich. Outland had been the same idea, and that hadn't panned out, either. That had been an unmitigated disaster the likes of which she didn't even want to think about right now. Time and again, she just wound up with enough gold to scrape by, rather than the fortunes she had imagined, the wealth she had been promised. 

"I should've just gone into herbalism instead," she commented as she finished up her bowl. 

"What's this I hear?" said a squeaky goblin voice approaching from behind her. "You want to get into flower-picking? Because I know a guy who could make us a fortune off of goldclover. It doesn't have that name for no reason!" 

Theryn rolled her eyes. "Can the get-rich-quick schemes, Vizzik. How about a job that's actually going to pay this time?" 

"Well, not to worry," Vizzik said. "I've got a good one for you, this time!" 

"I still have a debt to Nat Pagle for accidentally breaking his favorite fishing pole," Theryn said. "I owe money to Honor Hold for making their gryphons very ill from ravager eggs, putting them out of the action for two weeks recovering. Hemet Nesingwary would like _my_ head on a wall. And this is all because of _your_ schemes, I might add." 

"Nonsense! There was nothing wrong with my ideas, merely the execution!" 

Theryn snorted softly. "Don't blame me for your stupid schemes going wrong. But fine. Let's hear it. This one couldn't possibly be any worse than the time you wanted me to steal from Onyxia." 

"No, no," Vizzik said. "This is much better than that. Alright, see, there's this fellow I want you to meet up in the Grizzly Hills, name of Budd..." 

"Oh, no. You're not roping me into any scheme involving Budd again," Theryn said, shaking her head emphatically. "I still have nightmares about Zul'Aman." 

"It wasn't that bad!" Vizzik insisted. "Anyway, I hear it's warmer up there, and they've got a hot pot of stew at their camp." 

Theryn sighed. "Fine. _Fine_. I'll go." At least, she figured, she might get more of an opportunity to watch trolls. She'd heard there were frost trolls up in Northrend, but she hadn't seen any yet in Howling Fjord. 

"Brilliant!" Vizzik exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Here, I'll show you the map. You'll just have to walk over these mountains--" 

"What, I don't even get a flight path?" Theryn asked. "Or a mount?" 

"I don't think we can afford that right now." 

"You mean you don't think _you_ can afford that," Theryn retorted. "Look, never mind. I'll walk. Maybe I'll manage to take down a shoveltusk on the way to fill up my belly with." 

"That's the spirit!" Vizzik pumped his fist. "Get out there and break a leg!" 

"By Elune, certainly I hope not." 

* * *

Theryn perched behind a tree and took sight of the shoveltusks below her. She pulled out her bow and strung it up, nocked an arrow and carefully took aim. No need to spook her prey. No need to alert them to her presence until it was too late to do anything about it. Just let them keep peacefully grazing on the thin Northrend grass. 

They said rogues shouldn't use bows. That they were good for nothing but getting the attention of an enemy and pulling them away from where they happened to be standing in order to fight them away from their comrades, or at a better location. No self-respecting rogue actually relied upon a bow to do any sort of real damage. That was what daggers were for, after all. Although the occasional rogue used maces instead, which Theryn always thought was even stranger than the ones who denigrated bows. 

With fierce determination, Theryn let her arrow fly. It sailed quietly through the air like a deadly bird of prey, and buried itself in the neck of a shoveltusk. Its herdmates didn't realize what was happening at first, until the target panicked and broke into a run. The shoveltusks scattered across the plains of Howling Fjord. 

Another arrow to the bow. Hitting a moving target was more difficult, but the shoveltusks still didn't know exactly where she was. She figured it was worth the shot, regardless. She released the arrow, and it flew straight and true, straight into the trunk of a small tree. Snorting softly, Theryn pulled out her daggers and slid down the hillside. She sprinted across the open ground and sliced into the wounded shoveltusk. The beast let out an anguished bellow and swung its massive head-rack at her. Tumbling narrowly out of the way, Theryn landed nimbly on her feet again and stabbed into the shoveltusk's side. 

Soon enough, the shoveltusk was dead, leaving Theryn with some bumps and bruises from the battle, but to make up for it, there'd be a pile of meat that would serve for tonight's dinner as well as some leather. 

It took her a few days to reach the Grizzly Hills and locate the camp that Vizzik had told her about. Getting slightly lost and wandering all over the place in the process didn't help, either. It's not like there were clearly marked roads leading to the spot or anything, after all. 

The camp was populated with a few unfortunately familiar faces... although the troll mask Budd appeared to be wearing was new. Theryn quirked an eyebrow at that and went over to greet the others. At least it didn't look like Harrison Jones happened to be here. At the moment. 

"So, what's up with Budd?" Theryn wondered. 

"He hasn't been the same since Zul'Aman," Samir explained. "Thinks he's a troll now." 

"I... see," Theryn said. "He's not _nearly_ attractive enough for that. He should try adding a nice pair of long, fake ears, and not just a mask." 

"Well, it seems to fool the other trolls well enough," Samir said. "I'm not sure why, but they let him get close to them." 

"Maybe they just think he's an idiot and obviously not a threat," Theryn suggested. 

"Maybe," Samir conceded. "Either way, I've got a plan to take advantage of this." 

"Oh?" 

"There's a troll camp just a little ways to the south of here," Samir said, grinning conspiratorily. "I want you to take Budd in there and distract one of their shamans, then knock him over the head and stick him in a cage, and bring him back here." 

"Uh, and just what would we do with him then?" Theryn wondered, raising an eyebrow. 

"We'll figure that out when we get to that point." 

Theryn sighed. She'd suspected that this was going to turn out to be a stupid idea. Now she was sure of it.


	2. Meet Drakuru

"Playin' tag mah fellow trolls, what fun!" Budd exclaimed cheerfully.

Theryn quirked a long, white eyebrow at the deranged human. How had Zul'Aman left him so unhinged? It could only be a curse from the ancient troll spirits that he had so flagrantly angered, and Theryn was grateful that he had taken the brunt of it rather than her. Things certainly could have been a lot worse, she supposed.

"Come on, Budd," Theryn said, rubbing her head and sighing again. "We've got a job to do. And I hope to Elune I'm actually getting paid this time."

She led Budd down the rugged trail to the old troll ruin, occasionally having to get his attention to keep him from getting distracted and wandering off along the way. Theryn would never understand the insistence of trolls to squat in crumbling ruins. For that matter, she didn't understand that tendency in her own people, either. Both of them clung to the past without making any attempt at rebuilding what they had once had, in many cases. At least the night elves generally tried to make sure that their crumbling towns had roofs over their heads, though.

Grabbing Budd by the collar to keep him from rushing off to greet his troll "friends", Theryn stopped on a rise over the ruins to peer down at the trolls. The females were savage and beautiful, and the males were shapely and handsome. Her eyes rested upon one at the bottom of the slope. His skin was pale ice blue like newfallen snow, and his hair a shimmering pale violet that glistened like moonlight on water. With a shake of her head, Theryn snapped out of her reverie. As much as she didn't really want to hurt these trolls, she had a job to do, and money to make. It's not like they would be friendly toward her, regardless.

"Which one be It?" Budd asked. "Who do I tag?"

"That one," Theryn said, pointing to the gorgeous male. "Tag him for me, would you?"

"Righto!" Budd declared enthusiastically, and charged down the slope. "Ahoy, mah troll brothers! Let's play! You're It, mon!"

The chiseled, violet-haired troll looked over at Budd in confusion for one moment before being brained with a frying pan, a reverberating sound like a gong echoing through the chilly air. Theryn hauled the cage Samir had given her over to him and shoved the poor troll inside.

"You tagged him good, Budd," Theryn said. "I don't think he's getting back up from that one anytime soon. Now help me get him back to Samir before the others start protesting us taking their shaman in a violent manner."

Glancing nervously toward the other ice trolls who were starting to gather to investigate the strange sounds, Theryn grabbed a hold of the cage and, with Budd's help, quickly hauled it back toward the path and out of sight. At least they managed to make it back to the trail before Budd got distracted with something and dropped his side of the cage, and ran off into the underbrush. Under the increased weight, Theryn inadvertently dropped the cage on her foot. She let out a yelp of pain and grumbled in annoyance.

"Guess I couldn't have expected anything more," Theryn muttered.

"Ah, did you get one?" Samir said, approaching from the north.

"Yeah," Theryn said. "Where were you?"

"Keeping an eye out. Where'd Budd go?"

"I have no idea," Theryn said with a shrug.

"I'm sure he'll turn up again at some point. Let's get this bad boy back to camp. He's going to make us a fortune."

" _How?_ "

"I haven't figured that part out yet," Samir said, taking the other side of the cage.

Theryn was becoming increasingly convinced that Samir and his friends were simply idiots. As if Zul'Aman hadn't been proof enough of that.

* * *

Back at Granite Springs camp, Theryn stood by the troll's cage as he slowly regained consciousness. He was going to have a painful lump on his head from where Budd hit him, but he was alive. Rubbing his head, he groaned softly and slowly rose to his feet. Yellow eyes gazed out at Theryn from between the bars of the wooden cage. No, perhaps they were more like amber, or gold. Pure, molten golden orbs, precious and beautiful.

"What you starin' at, mon?" the troll said. "You best watch yourself. Drakuru killed night elves before. Yer kind keep comin' to our land, pokin' about into old troll secrets."

Theryn blinked, only then realizing that she had been gaping in open admiration at someone who was looking straight at her. And also that he could speak Common. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof, at any rate. Somewhat embarrassed, she cleared her throat and deliberately looked away, but her eyes wandered back to him a moment later.

"Sorry," Theryn said. "I don't mean to stare. It's not often that I have seen a troll up close before." Especially not such a stunning example of the breed, either.

"Lucky for you I be stuck in this cage," Drakuru said.

"Yeah, sorry about that, too," Theryn said sheepishly. "This wasn't exactly my idea."

Drakuru gave a hoarse laugh. "Be that so? Mebbe in that case, we can put this aside. Forget the bad business. Drakuru know things, know many things, things that can help you..."

"I'm listening," Theryn said, perking up with interest and rapt upon the troll's every word. "What exactly are you proposing?"

"Drakuru will help you, mon, if you help me, too."

"You want me to let you out of there?" Theryn said. "I'm sure I can arrange that."

Drakuru scratched his chin thoughtfully, then nodded tersely. "That would be most appreciated, mon. That be most convenient." He reached up a hand and sliced his palm open on his sharp tusk, causing Theryn to flinch involuntarily, then reached through the bars of the cage to offer her the bloody white hand.

"Wh--What are you doing?" Theryn wondered.

"Drakuru be offerin' you a pact in blood."

Theryn blinked at him in puzzlement. "Um..."

"Drakuru must know he can trust you," the troll said.

"What if you've got the plague?" Theryn wondered. "What if _I've_ got the plague? I could be infecting you and you'd never know until it was too late."

"Drakuru's not worried about that, mon," he said, blood slowly dripping onto the dirt at her feet. "Me life's already in your hands. As for you? What be your prospects? How bad do you want what I offer? Knowledge. Power. Riches."

Theryn's breath caught in her throat as she stared at Drakuru for several more, long moments. Her mind told her that this was a terrible idea. And yet, her heart was having trouble saying no. Drakuru was alluring in a way she hadn't imagined possible. And what choice did she really have? Half the time, she was going hungry and sleeping in the cold. This could very well be the opportunity she had been looking for all these years. Maybe it would kill her. What kind of a life was she living, anyway?

"I be bleedin' here, elf," Drakuru urged her. "Be your answer yes or no?"

Steeling herself, Theryn took a deep breath and pulled out one of her daggers from her belt. She clenched her teeth and drew it across her palm, wincing in pain as the blade bit into her lavender skin. Crimson welled up and dripped out onto the ground, splattering on top of the troll blood already there. She reached forward and grasped Drakuru's hand firmly, letting their blood mingle.

"I'm not 'elf', Drakuru. My name is Theryn Shadowhand."

Drakuru grinned broadly, his golden eyes wild and fey. "We be sharin' a true bond now, sistah. You won't be livin' to regret it..."


	3. The Fine Art of Running Away

"Hey, Samir!" Theryn called, approaching the dark-skinned human.

"Ah, Theryn," Samir said. "I see the troll's awake now. What did he tell you? I saw you talking with him over there."

Theryn wondered just how much Samir had seen, but the human didn't seem overly alarmed, even if he had noticed their bizarre handshake. "Well, I've got a way to make money out of this. Our guest knows some interesting secrets. He could lead me to the hiding places of several valuable, ancient troll artifacts. Just think what we could make if we sold something like that to the right people!"

"Oh," Samir said, his face falling a bit. "Actually, I've already made arrangements to sell him to the Alliance. They think he might know about Drak'Tharon Keep. Someone is coming up from Amberpine Lodge in the morning to pick him up."

Theryn groaned. "You'd pass up an opportunity like this?"

"Theryn, just think, if you let him out of that cage, he'll run off and disappear into the woods and we'll never see him again."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm good with a bow and know how to use tranquilizing poisons."

"It's not worth the risk," Samir said. "A troll in the hand is worth two in the bush. We'd best go for the guaranteed profit after we went to the trouble of capturing him."

"You mean after _I_ went to the trouble of capturing him," Theryn retorted. "And yesterday, you didn't even have a clue what you were going to do with a troll when we got one!"

"It's not worth the risk," Samir repeated. "Why don't you go over and help Mack Fearsen with burning those mummified troll corpses so that they don't get up and attack us again?"

He wasn't going to budge on the matter. Theryn sighed and acquiesced for the moment. "Fine." Shoulders slumping, she went over to where the other human was tossing Scourge carcasses onto a bonfire, giving a rueful glance over to Drakuru. This wasn't over yet. She'd just have to take matters into her own hands.

* * *

Come nightfall, Granite Springs camp was asleep but for a lone guard watching the north road to make sure no Scourge wandered in. Rousing herself after an evening nap she had taken under the pretense of being tired and needing rest, Theryn stretched and quietly got her gear in order. She wouldn't be coming back here again, after all. Not after this.

Silent as a shadow, Theryn snuck over to the cage where Drakuru was being held. He stood as she approached, and she pressed a finger to her lips to gesture for quiet. Carefully, her deft lavender fingers manipulated her lockpicking tools, and popped open the the cage door with a creak. Theryn's eyes darted over in alarm to where Samir was sleeping as he shifted in his bedroll and opened an eye to look straight at her.

Theryn froze in place for a moment, wondering if he'd spotted her, if he'd heard. Samir stirred and lifted his head, beginning to sit up. Not wasting a moment's breath, Theryn sprinted off into the darkness, only when she was sure she was not being pursued stopping to look to see if Drakuru had followed her.

"I think we done got away," Drakuru said, catching up to her and glancing back toward the camp.

"Let's keep moving to be on the safe side," Theryn said.

"You came back for me, sistah," Drakuru said, looking to her as if re-evaluating her as they continued on into the forest. "After you be talkin' to that human, Drakuru wondered."

Theryn said in broken, halting Zandali, "I make promise."

Drakuru raised an eyebrow, looking at her in surprise, and replied in the language of the trolls as well. "You speak Zandali?"

Switching back to Common, Theryn said sheepishly, "I can understand it better than I can speak it. I haven't really had much opportunity to practice."

Drakuru nodded, and said, "In that case, I will speak Zandali, if you can keep up with me."

"I can," Theryn assured him.

"Very well. For starters, we shall need to return to Drak'Zin," Drakuru said.

"Where was that?" Theryn asked. "I'm not familiar with that name."

"That was the ruin where you captured me." Drakuru pointed off into the forest. "It'll be in this direction, I believe. Let's circle around a bit to make sure that we've evaded any possible pursuit before turning in that direction. No sense in showing them exactly where we're going so that they might catch me again. Out of curiosity, what were they planning on doing with me?"

"They were going to sell you to the Alliance," Theryn told him. "Apparently they meant to interrogate you for information on Drak'Tharon Keep. There was an Alliance envoy coming in the morning to haul you off. I had to get you out of there before they arrived to take you away."

Drakuru stopped and looked her straight in the eyes, discs like gold coins boring into her own silver ones. "Why?"

"I did tell you I'd get you out of there," Theryn said, flustered and flushing.

"You could have just taken your cut of my bounty from the Alliance," Drakuru said. "Was the promise of riches and power great enough to outweigh the risk of letting me escape? Or are you so honorable that you will not break your word regardless of adversity or changing circumstances? Mm, no, I would imagine not, or you'd have been loyal to the Alliance before me."

"The only shits I give about the Alliance would be the ones I'd throw at them," Theryn snorted. "Provided I could get away with it, anyway."

Drakuru laughed aloud and started walking again. "Quite the mouth on you for an elf. Why the animosity?"

"We'd be here all night if I were to explain that," Theryn said. "Suffice it to say that my life has been one long series of disasters. After the Alliance kept sending me into dangerous situations and awarding me with little more than a pat on the back at _best_ , I decided to try working for the goblins of the Steamwheedle Cartel instead. At least they pay me better. Which is to say, at all."

"So, you're just in it for the money, is that it?" Drakuru asked.

"No," Theryn said, shaking her head. This was hard enough to explain in Common. She didn't think she'd have been able to manage in Zandali. "There's been times I've been on the verge of freezing and starving to death since I arrived in Northrend, but it's not just about survival, either. Just... how do I say it..."

Drakuru grinned at her reassuringly, causing her to practically melt under his gaze. "Take your time, Theryn."

How could she tell him that she'd played 'troll' when she was a little girl? It was incredibly embarrassing. And yet, even that wasn't the whole point of it. There were plenty of trolls in the world, after all. It's not like she couldn't always go to one of the neutral goblin towns and find one there. She always liked to look at the troll males, but Drakuru was alluring in very immediate way.

"You're in love with me, aren't you," Drakuru said with a crooked grin.

Theryn stumbled and tripped over a protruding tree root, and almost went sprawling face-first into the dirt if Drakuru hadn't caught her with a strong blue arm. Face burning, Theryn stammered and stepped away from him, fixing her eyes firmly on a patch of goldclover and certain that she had mistranslated the Zandali words.

"Come again?" Theryn said hesitantly.

"You be likin' me, mon," Drakuru repeated in Common.

Right. That's what she'd thought he said. Theryn's face burned in embarrassment. "I-- Well, maybe, I mean, we just met and all, and I don't exactly know you very well, and besides, we're not even the same race or anything for that matter."

Drakuru chuckled softly and put a large hand on her shoulder, and squeezed gently. "Don't worry, Theryn. I was merely making an observation, not an accusation. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You're a rather attractive female, for a night elf."

"I didn't just free you because I thought you were handsome," Theryn said. "I mean, that was certainly a contributing factor, but... Look, can we just forget about this for now? I really can't handle this right now. It's too much, too fast. I'm sorry."

Drakuru smiled and stepped away. "Don't worry. That's fine. I have much to do, and would not mind another pair of hands assisting with it. There's still the potential for wealth and power for your part as well, after all."

He held up a hand and stopped walking. Down the slope below, the ruins Theryn had been at before lay shrouded in darkness. A handful of trolls were awake at the moment, milling about the ruins in their routines. Drakuru seemed tense, and a little nervous.

"You stay here and keep an eye out," he told Theryn. "I'll slip in and get the information I need."

"I should go with you," Theryn said.

"You're obviously not a troll," Drakuru said. "They'd spot you as an intruder in an instant."

Theryn pulled her pack off her back and fished around in it for the disguise she always carried around. She still kept around a troll costume, but since she'd grown up and had something resembling a career, such as it was, she could at least refer to it as a disguise, and not just embarrasingly say that she liked to play troll dress-up. Little ivory tusks went into her mouth, a brass ring through her nose, and her silver hair she pulled up and tied into a wild topknot.

"Well, I suppose that will be sufficient to pass in the dark," Drakuru said, examining her thoughtfully. "Wait. Is your nose _actually_ pierced?"

"Yes," Theryn replied sheepishly.

Drakuru chuckled softly. "You're just full of surprises, my dear. Let's do this, then."

The two of them strode down into the ruins, feigning nonchalance as much as possible. Drakuru glanced about to make sure no one was watching too close, and went over to examine some ancient troll glyphs on the crumbling walls of the ruins. Theryn stood by, looking around and trying to mimic the body language of a troll female.

"This what you is looking?" Theryn asked quietly.

Drakuru nodded, grinning eagerly. "Yes, yes. This is just what I was looking for."

"Hey, what are you doing here?" said one of the troll guards, approaching them.

Theryn cursed under her breath. She knew her disguise wasn't all that great and had been afraid someone might see through it. She shouldn't have insisted on coming along with Drakuru and jeopardizing his efforts.

Drakuru said quietly in Common, "We gotta fight our way out, mon. But the humies took mah weapons."

With only a moment's hesitation, Theryn pulled out her daggers and passed them over to him. The guard raised the alarm, alerting the camp to their intrusion, and the other trolls were starting to rouse one by one. taking a step back, Theryn pulled out her bow and nocked an arrow to the string. The first troll went down before he even got within arm's length of Drakuru, a blue-feathered arrow buried in his eye.

Her daggers might not have been Drakuru's preferred weapon, but his presence was enough to distract their attackers and keep them at a distance so that Theryn could pick them off with her bow one by one. Then, a group of trolls swarmed at the two of them all at once. Theryn could not keep up with them, and Drakuru took a step back, staggering under their attacks.

Taking a deep breath to try to keep her nerves calm, Theryn pulled out a special arrow she saved for emergencies. She only had the one left, but Drakuru was in danger and it was entirely her fault. She let it fly into the midst of enemies, and it exploded into a burst of flames, scorching the trolls and knocking Drakuru back.

Bodies littered the ground of the ruins. Drakuru rushed back to where Theryn stood, favoring one leg. "They've stopped coming for now. Let's get out of here."

She wasn't about to argue with that sentiment. Offering him an arm to steady him, she headed off into the night. Definitely a good time for them to vanish.


	4. Eye of the Profits

"Are you alright?" Theryn asked once they'd put some distance between them and the troll ruin. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"I'll be fine," Drakuru said, waving off her concern.

"I don't have any potions, but I've got some bandages," Theryn said, digging around in her pack, and putting away her fake tusks while she was at it.

Drakuru nodded, and slumped down with his back against a tree. Theryn examined his leg by the moonlight. She couldn't tell if his pale blue skin had been scorched, so he only had minor burns if that, however a trickle of red blood ran down his leg from a long cut above the knee. Motioning him to stay still for the moment, Theryn wrapped a frostweave bandage around his leg. It wasn't as good of a quick fix as a healing potion, but there was enough magic inherent in frostweave cloth that it should still heal fairly rapidly, as it had for the small cut she'd made on her hand.

"That's better," Drakuru said, nodding to her in gratitude.

"So, what did you learn?" Theryn asked. "Where are we heading next?"

"There's another old ruin north of Granite Springs," Drakuru replied. "Zeb'Halak, it's called."

"You want to examine the glyphs there, too?"

Drakuru shook his head. "More than that. The ones I just examined told me where to find the artifacts I mentioned. In Zeb'Halak there is a statue, and one of its eyes is a gemstone called the Eye of the Prophets."

Theryn's eyes lit up, and a broad smile spread across her face. "Definitely sounds like something worth stealing and fencing for a tidy sum on the black market. Once we get our hands on it, I can contact my goblin sponsor. He does good work and doesn't take too big a cut. And since Samir wasn't interested in the deal, we can keep all the profits for ourselves."

"And what are you planning to do with that gold?" Drakuru asked.

"Go somewhere warmer, for starters," Theryn replied.

"Do you hate Northrend so much?" Drakuru wondered.

Theryn shrugged. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I had my own keep or something, but as it is, well, I haven't really been having a good time of it."

"Why did you come here?" Drakuru asked. "To fight the Scourge?"

Theryn shook her head. "I couldn't give two shits about the Scourge, or the Burning Legion, or whatever other army of doom is running around at any given moment. Everyone expects me to want to save the world. But, I'm just one night elf. I'm not good at being a rogue. I wasn't allowed to be a hunter. And if an army of doom is coming my way, I'd really rather just get out of the way than die heroically and stupidly trying to save the world. Heroes die. I want to live."

"If you're just looking to make money, aren't there better ways to accomplish that?"

"Probably, but I'm now unwelcome in several major cities across Kalimdor, the Eastern Kingdoms, and Outland," Theryn replied with a smirk. "Also, several important people would like to see me dead. Um. Including a few dragons." She cleared her throat. "Not many people in Northrend want to kill me. Yet."

Drakuru laughed aloud. "How did you manage that? It sounds like you have some interesting stories to tell."

"Through ill-advised and poorly planned things such as I did when I rescued you from Granite Springs after capturing you myself. Decision making has never really been my strong suit." Theryn smirked. "And if you really want to hear about all my poor life choices, perhaps I'll tell you all about it once we're living the high life somewhere that nobody is immediately trying to kill either of us."

"Perhaps I'll take you up on that."

* * *

"I doubt they're going to just let us walk in and vandalize their statue," Theryn commented as they trekked up through the woods.

"We may need to kill some of them," Drakuru said. "Much as I hate to see my brothers die."

"Yeah..." Theryn said in agreement with that sentiment. "I could probably sneak in and slip past most of them."

Drakuru nodded. "Probably you could. But Zim'bo isn't likely to go far from the statue. He won't let that eye out of his sight. He'll need to be killed."

When they arrived at the ruins of Zeb'Halak, Theryn crept close enough to examine the layout from a safe distance and locate the ziggurat and the statue that was their objective. If they approached from the back, they could probably get fairly close without anyone spotting them.

"I'm heading in," Theryn said, plan of action set in mind.

"I've got your back," Drakuru replied, her daggers in his hands.

If Zim'bo hadn't been atop the ziggurat, she might have been able to snipe him from a distance. As it was, she couldn't get a clear shot on his location. One troll was patrolling the perimeter and coming toward them, but hadn't spotted them yet. When he was out of sight of the other trolls, Theryn loosed an arrow. It zipped through the air and buried itself in the troll's throat, and he stumbled and fell quietly to the ground. After dragging the corpse into the underbrush and out of sight, Theryn crept up the stairs to the top of the ziggurat.

The purple-haired troll atop the ziggurat turned to her, not fooled by her stealth for a moment. "You be dyin' now."

Theryn shot an arrow at him, but he half-dodged and it embedded itself in his shoulder. Wishing that she had at least one of her good daggers at hand, she pulled out a small backup knife from her boot. She lunged at him, striking a small gasp in his other arm.

The troll warlord swung his spiked mace around, and pain crashed through Theryn's side. The world tilted, and she almost fell off the top of the ziggurat. Theryn went down, grabbing onto one of the pillars at the last moment.

"Zim'bo must slay the betrayer," the troll said, looming over her.

"Betrayer?" Theryn said, coughing up blood. "I didn't betray you. I'm not actually a troll."

"Not you, elf," Zim'bo said. "We were betrayed by one of our own. Zim'bo must reclaim Drak'Tharon Keep and drive off the Scourge. You will not be stoppin' me from that."

In one quick movement, Theryn looped an arm around his leg and yanked him off the top of the ziggurat. Zim'bo fell tumbling down to where Drakuru was waiting. He grabbed a hold of the other troll and sliced one of Theryn's daggers across Zim'bo's throat before he could even cry out. Drakuru signalled an all-clear to Theryn, who nodded and scrambled to her feet to make for the statue.

Wheezing at the exertion and coughing up some more blood, Theryn used her knife to pry out the rubies that made up the statue's eyes. Even if they weren't magical, they'd still be a nice haul. That was worth the pain. Probably.

Gems in hand, she staggered back down the stairs to where Drakuru was waiting, and almost made it to him before collapsing to her knees again.

"Theryn!" Drakuru whispered, rushing up to her side. "Are you badly injured?"

"Ugh," she muttered, coughing and hacking as blood came out of her mouth. "I think I must've broken a rib... or three..."

"That's a bit more than a bandage can deal with," Drakuru said. "I'll see if I can find some potions for you. You stay here out of sight. I'll be back in just a moment."

Wiping off her mouth weakly, Theryn crawled into the underbrush along with the two corpses. If all else failed, she could just pretend to be another troll corpse. Provided they didn't turn to cannibalism. Now wasn't that a cheery thought? Unless Drakuru could find something to heal her with, she'd wind up _being_ another corpse. Her head swimming, she silently wished him luck and hoped that he would hurry back with help.

Just when she thought the world was going dark, a familiar voice told her softly, "Here. Drink this. Carefully."

Cold glass pressed against her lips, and she drank eagerly, almost choking on the liquid.

"Careful, careful," Drakuru said. "Don't choke on it. There. There. You'll be fine. That helped, but here, I've got another one for you."

After two potions, Theryn was feeling well enough to stand up and move, and would normally have left it at that and let the rest of it heal on its own, but Drakuru put a hand on her shoulder gently and pulled out another potion.

"You're not done yet," Drakuru said. "Let's get you all fixed up."

"I'm fine," Theryn said. "We can always sell the rest of the potions for pocket change, or keep them for another emergency."

Drakuru shook his head. "You're still hurt. Drink up. You don't want to be going into the unknown with half-healed injuries."

Theryn sighed, and acquisced, taking the potion reluctantly and drinking it down. "Thank you." She felt better than she had in a long time. Who knew how many little things built up and never quite fully healed without the aid of magic?

Grinning, Drakuru said, "Now, let's get out of here before anyone notices what we've done and raises an alarm."


	5. My Heart Is in Your Hands

Once they were a safe distance away from Zeb'Hallek, the two of them set up camp to get some rest and eat something.

"Zim'bo said they'd been betrayed by one of their own," Theryn commented while roasting some venison over a campfire.

"Mm," Drakuru murmured noncommittally as he checked over the two daggers.

"I assume he meant you," Theryn went on.

"Oh?" Drakuru said.

"Well, you _are_ killing them and stealing their sacred relics," Theryn said. "If I were them, I'd be a bit miffed about that as well."

Drakuru poked at the meat thoughtfully. "True."

"So where are we heading next?"

The troll brought out the gemstone and peered through it intently. "East," Drakuru replied. "The Heart of the Ancients. This one will be easy. Almost too easy. I see it lying on the ground next to the corpse of a goblin, in a chamber by a river clogged with felled logs. Poor bastard probably didn't even know what he'd found. We should hurry and grab it before someone else finds it."

"Hmm," Theryn said. "That would be Blue Sky Logging Ground, I think. I doubt we'd reach it tonight, but if we pushed we could probably get there by tomorrow. I'm up for it. How are you doing?"

Drakuru nodded. "Let's douse the fire and get moving again. We can eat on the road."

They gathered up their belongings and set out again. This was going to be a long day, and if she hadn't had those potions, Theryn would surely have been out like a light back there just trying to recover.

By morning, they reached the road, only to be intercepted by a fool wearing a troll mask. Theryn groaned softly and peered about, hoping that Samir wasn't also nearby. No such luck.

"Found you," Samir said, approaching close enough to speak comfortably. "I figured if I sent Budd out looking for you and followed him, he might run across you again."

"Why would you even bother?" Theryn wondered. "By now, you could have caught three more trolls with a lot less trouble."

"Maybe, but the Alliance isn't happy about this and wanted you found when they realized what had happened," Samir said. "You cost me, and I certainly wasn't about to cover for you."

Theryn rolled her eyes. "This is hardly the first time I've annoyed the Alliance, and it probably won't be the last, either." She dug out the extra gem that Drakuru had left with her, that he'd said wasn't magical. "Okay, how about something to recoup your losses and pretend you didn't see us?"

As they were talking, Budd had circled around and attempted to hit Drakuru over the head with a frying pan again. This time, the troll expected the attack and ducked, then kicked Budd's legs out from under him.

"Go play tag wit' anudda troll, mon," Drakuru told him.

"Aw." Budd pushed himself to his feet. "Trolls don't play fair."

"You be damned right we don't," Drakuru said.

"Fine," Samir said, approaching and taking the stone from her and examining it to verify its authenticity. "I'll head back and tell the Alliance we couldn't find you. You're probably miles away by now."

"Tell them we're dead," Theryn said. "You found our corpses at one of the troll ruins. We'd obviously been killed fighting them. No sense sending anyone to look for us anymore."

Samir examined the ruby again, as if gauging if it were enough to buy that lie, then nodded. "Very well. I'll make sure the Alliance thinks you're dead." He paused, staring at Theryn a moment longer. "Also, why are you wearing a nose ring?"

"I be a troll, mon!" Theryn insisted. "Just a couple o' trolls passin' through. No rogue night elf here."

"Right..." Samir said dubiously. "Well, I suppose that's a better disguise than Budd's."

As they were walking away, Theryn muttered in Zandali, "Mating Alliance midden-eaters."

Drakuru stared at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing. "Wherever you learned to speak Zandali, you certainly picked up some colorful turns of phrase."

"Some trolls down in Booty Bay, mostly," Theryn replied.

"Ah," Drakuru said. "That would explain the dialect. Around here, we would say 'fucking', rather than 'mating', and 'shit' rather than 'midden'."

"Good to know," Theryn said. "Swearing correctly is always important."

"We could have just killed them, you know," Drakuru said.

"Most likely," Theryn said with a shrug. "But at least this way, the Alliance is off my back and won't be looking for us. We can just be two trolls traveling through the forest, and not a couple of traitors everyone wants dead."

Much as she hated to part with that sort of wealth, she hoped that Samir would be good to his word and that what she'd bought with it would wind up being worth the price.

They continued east, and not long thereafter, they came upon a group of orcs besieging a settlement with log walls. When she spotted them, Theryn pulled out her fake tusks and stuck them in again, and wondered if she could fool anyone this time.

"You there. Trolls." The largest orc gestured them over. "You two with the Horde?"

"Nah, mon," Theryn replied in broken Orcish. "We not here tah fight nobody. We just passin' through."

The orc grunted, fortunately not taking Theryn's mediocre language skills as anything unusual. Better yet that he didn't even seem to notice that anything was off about her. She'd always had better luck passing as a troll with people who weren't trolls themselves, if they didn't look too closely and notice that she had the wrong number of fingers or that her feet were all wrong.

"You best steer clear of this place, then," the orc said. "Silverbrook is full of crazed worgen. Pass along warning wherever you're going. We'll get them cleared out sooner or later, if the damned Horde would send those reinforcements I asked for."

"If we see any Horde, mon, we'll tell 'em to send help," Theryn assured him. "Spirits be with yah, mon."

As they moved on, Drakuru looked at her with something of surprised admiration, as if he had to re-evaluate her yet again. "Here I'd thought I was going to have to talk to the orcs myself. You speak their tongue as well? How many languages do you know?"

"Those are the main ones," Theryn said. "I can muddle through Thalassian and Undercommon, but I've no hope of speaking them and I might just mix up embarrassment and pregnancy."

Drakuru blinked. "Has that... happened before?"

"Sadly, yes," Theryn said with a smirk.

The sun was growing low as they reached Blue Sky Logging Grounds to discover that it was a warzone. Horde and Alliance soldiers scattered the area, taking potshots at one another in an entrenched battle for control of the area. Lack of sleep was starting to get to her, and she would really prefer not to do a lot of fighting in this state.

"I hope we're not too late," Drakuru murmured.

"Do you know where it might be?" Theryn asked.

Drakuru peered about the place, then pointed off to a large building amidst the oil rigs. "There, up at the top, I think."

Theryn snorted softly. "Yeah, sure, this will be easy, you said. It's just laying on the ground for the taking. In the middle of a warzone. Well, let's see if we can sneak past, but if someone's picked up the blighted thing in the past day, we may have to go tracking someone down to murder them for it."

They came across the Horde camp at the west edge of the lake, and here Theryn figured they might as well just approach and hope her troll disguise held out.

The orc commander looked at them almost in relief. "Trolls! Tell me the Horde sent me more troops."

"Nah, mon," Theryn said. "They ask for help at Silverbrook."

"Silverbrook?" the commander said incredulously. "Hogwash! I don't care about Silverbrook. This place is actually _important_."

"We not here tah fight, anyway," Theryn said. "We on secret mission."

"What mission?" the orc asked.

"Can't tell ya, mon," Theryn replied. "It be a secret."

The orc rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Damned adventurers. If, while you're doing your damned _secret mission_ , trolls, you should happen to kill fifteen Alliance soldiers, there will be some coin for your pockets."

"Will do, mon," Theryn said. She gave him a clumsy approximation of an orc salute and headed off toward the building Drakuru had indicated.

Drakuru snickered at her back as they walked off. "A secret mission? Real subtle. Real subtle."

"They're used to it," Theryn said. "You run around telling people you're on a very important, unspecified mission, and they won't do anything to stop you. Most likely they won't do anything to help you, either, but they won't stop you."

She pulled out her bow and picked off a few humans from a safe distance. They were likely to attack Drakuru on sight, anyway, just for being a troll, and her as well so long as she looked like one. Regardless, she had no real sympathy for them. They were just Alliance toadies, going along with the word of an asshole king.

They made it to the base of the structure and scrambled up the ramp. Drakuru almost tripped over the fresh corpse of a dwarf on the way up, knocking it off into the water below with a splash. Normally, Theryn would be stopping to rifle through their pockets for loose change, but there were more pressing matters at the moment.

A night elf woman sat in the control room of the structure, cradling a large, faintly glowing gemstone in her hands. Theryn froze dead in her tracks upon seeing her, stopping so suddenly that Drakuru almost bumped into her.

"What--" the other elf said, looking up in surprise at Theryn, silver eyes meeting her own. "What's going on? What are you doing with that troll?"

"We've come for that gem you're holding," Theryn said. "Please, hand it over. It's important."

"I-- I don't know what you're doing, but you have no idea what this stone might be capable of!" the elf insisted. She stood and swept her blue hair back from her shoulders.

"Look, there isn't time to explain," Theryn said. Telling people that something was important and that there wasn't time to explain was often enough to make them bypass thinking too hard about it, but it wasn't likely to fool them forever unless they were a complete idiot.

This elf was not a complete idiot. "I can't let you take this. I'm sorry. It's too powerful to risk falling into the wrong hands."

"Theryn?" Drakuru murmured quietly. "She's talking elf-language. What is she saying?"

"She not let take stone," Theryn replied quietly in Zandali. "We must kill."

Drakuru nodded tersely in acknowledgment and brought daggers to hand. There wasn't enough room in these close quarters for Theryn to use her bow, so she backed into a corner to get out of Drakuru's way. As she made for the door and was pulling out her bow, a blast of wind sent her tumbling down the ramp as a hurricane ripped off the entire roof of the building. Frantically, Theryn grabbed the edge of the platform to avoid falling into the water, almost dropping her bow in the process.

Theryn swore colorfully in several languages as she pulled herself back onto the platform. Just what they needed. The elf was a blighted _druid_. What was she even doing here?

A beam of blazing purple light flared out of the empty sky and clipped Drakuru on the leg as he moved. Theryn nocked an arrow to the string, but she still couldn't quite get a clear shot from here. There was a wall in the way, and the broken window didn't quite line up with the druid. Drakuru cut and sliced at the enemy in a deadly dance. Shifting her position, Theryn spotted an opening, and loosed an arrow into the building.

The arrow struck straight through the druid's wrist. Gasping in pain, the gemstone tumbled from her hand and rolled across the floor to land at Drakuru's feet. Theryn had actually been intending on a throat shot, but the druid had moved at the last second.

Drakuru sheathed one dagger and reached down to grab the gemstone. In a last desperate move, the druid tried to get off another spell, only to find an arrow buried in her throat this time. Drakuru straightened, gem in hand, and the druid slid to the floor choking as she died.

"You've got it?" Theryn said, eying the stone as Drakuru walked down the ramp toward her.

He nodded. "You killed another elf."

"It would hardly be the first time," Theryn said with a shrug.

"You killed another elf for _me_ , though."

Theryn flushed. "Let's go see if we can get some coin from that orc," she said, evading the comment. "Damned druids. And a hot meal and a bedroll sound good about now, too."


	6. Third Time's the Charm

"Good work on that druid," Commander Bargok said when they returned. "I could see the spells from here! I assume you won, since you came back alive and mostly unharmed."

"We done killed that druid, mon," Theryn said. "Killed plenty more Alliance, too. Where be our coin?"

"Good pay for good work," the orc commander said, counting out some coins and passing them over to Theryn. When she went to take them, he stopped and stared at her hands for a moment. "Wait a minute..."

Theryn knew the gig was up, most likely, but she tried to play it cool as she dropped the money into her purse. "Sometin' wrong, mon?"

"You have too many fingers," Bargok said flatly.

"Don't be makin' fun of mah mate's birth defects, mon," Drakuru said.

The orc examined Drakuru closely, and seemed satisfied that he was a genuine troll, before turning back to Theryn. "Birth defects? And not being a night elf spy?"

Theryn snorted in amusement. "Bein' born a night elf would sure be a birth defect. I be no spy, mon. I be killin' many Alliance."

"Put an arrow right through a night elf druid bitch's throat, she did," Drakuru said. "Prolly saved mah life."

Bargok stared a bit longer, then shrugged. "Still think you're an elf, but I can't afford to be picky out here. I'm not gonna complain about anyone willing to kill Alliance."

As tired as Theryn was, she wanted something in her stomach before crawling into her bedroll. The Horde camp had a big pot of stew simmering over the fire and nobody minded if they helped themselves to a bowl. She didn't dare ask what kind of meat was in it, nor at this point, particularly care. It was warm and filled her up, and that was the important part.

Most night elves would not be comfortable with casually sleeping in a Horde camp. At this point, Theryn would sleep in a dragon's lair. Especially if Drakuru were there. She curled up in her bedroll and closed her eyes, then snapped them open again as someone else crawled in behind her.

"Drakuru?" she whispered.

"Mm," Drakuru murmured, putting his arms around her. "Well, you _are_ my mate, yes?"

As he didn't have his own bedroll, he had been simply sleeping on the ground, and hadn't seemed to mind that much. Now, with his warmth pressing up against her, she tensed up nervously and started breathing heavily, her heart racing. How was she supposed to sleep like this?

"You don't mind, do you?" Drakuru asked, and added in a low whisper, "They might question it otherwise."

"Drakuru..." Theryn murmured. A million thoughts rushed through her head. Maybe she didn't mind, but he could have asked first at least. Her heart had skipped a beat when she felt someone unexpected moving near her. She was used to having to jerk awake and be ready to fight at a moment's notice.

"Sorry," Drakuru breathed. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Theryn sighed and leaned back against him, and closed her eyes with deliberation. She would have gladly invited him in if he'd asked, but there was a point that the orcs might have overheard. Would that have been such a big deal? Did it really matter? Being next to him and sharing his warmth was quite pleasant and all, but she'd hoped to take things slower! He was so abrupt and forward at times. This was probably how trolls normally did things, though. Night elves were used to taking everything slow, even if they were no longer immortal. Trolls had never had that luxury, and neither did she.

Finally, she drifted off into much-needed sleep as Drakuru lay next to her.

* * *

"So, where we go next?" Theryn asked. As they were still in the Horde encampment, she stuck to Zandali rather than Common for the moment. Although she thought she was improving, she still didn't think she quite put sentences together properly.

"Further east," Drakuru replied. "Another old ruin near the coast. I believe the Alliance have set up an outpost not far from there."

"What we look there?" Theryn wondered. "Another stone?"

"Not this time. There's some ancient tablets with writing no one was ever able to read. With the aid of the Eye and the Heart, though, I think I can decipher them."

Theryn smirked. "You think?"

"Pretty sure," Drakuru said, grinning.

"Very confidence!" Theryn said with a giggle. "Much inspire! Wow!"

Even Drakuru had to laugh at that, and he playfully mussed her hair. "Ready to go?"

Theryn nodded, pulling her belongings onto her back. "I look at map. Journey take seven-day, maybe more. Must avoid Alliance. They attack troll when see, probably."

"Heading out, troll and elf-troll?" Commander Bargok asked as they made to leave the camp.

"Aye, mon," Theryn told him.

"Better steer clear of the Alliance camp on the southeast shore of the lake," Bargok said. "Unless you plan to kill them all. I won't complain if you do. But it'll probably take a strong push to dislodge them from the spot."

"We'll be careful," Theryn said.

Bargok smirked. "Though I'm sure if you took out the nose ring and the fake tusks, they wouldn't bat an eye at you, elf-troll."

"Nah," Theryn said with a snort. "I'd hafta dye mah hair, too, mebbe that would throw 'em off the scent. Prolly got mah face on wanted posters. Offer bounty for traitor." She shrugged.

"You've got a point," Bargok said, nodding. "In that case, if you're heading east, you may find refuge in Camp Oneqwah. It belongs to the taunka, but they've aligned themselves with the Horde now, and we've got a few of our people there as well."

"Thanks, mon," Theryn said. "Spirits be with you. Or, as the orcs say, _lok'tar ogar_."

Bargok grinned toothily at her and thumped his fist across his chest in an orcish salute. " _Lok'tar ogar_ , elf-troll."

* * *

The next night, they made camp in the forest. With a belly full of venison, Theryn curled up in her bedroll next to the fire. Drakuru sprawled out under a tree across the fire.

Theryn looked over at him and scowled, then let out a sigh. "Drakuru..."

Drakuru stirred and propped his head up to look over at her. "Mm?"

"If you want..." Theryn said hesitantly, and swallowed. "You can join me over here."

He gave a soft chuckle and stood up, stretching luxuriously, then went over to crawl into the bedroll beside her. His warmth was comforting, and she found his tusks didn't get in the way as much as she'd expect. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him. With a faint smile, Theryn closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

They made good time across the Grizzly Hills, and arrived at Camp Oneqwah after five days of travel. Theryn hadn't seen many taunka up close before and was both uneasy and fascinated by them. They weren't quite tauren, but the similarities were clear enough. Much like the similarities between night elves and trolls, much as both were loath to acknowledge for the most part.

"Did you have trouble with the Alliance out there?" the orc scout posted at the encampment asked.

Theryn shook her head. "Not since we done left Blue Sky Logging Ground, mon." Either Samir had held up to his end of the bargain, or they'd just been lucky.

"Good," the scout said. "With Westfall Brigade Encampment just to the north, it makes me uneasy."

"We be sure tah avoid the place," Theryn said. "We be stayin' here tonight and movin' on tomarra."

After another two days, they made it to a small camp on the coast a short ways south of the ruins, and rested up there before heading inside.

"We'd best be careful," Theryn warned.

"Angry trolls, windserpents, traps, possibly undead," Drakuru said.

Theryn shook her head. "Not that. I recognized some of the people at that camp as being associates of Harrison Jones."

"Who?" Drakuru wondered.

"Let us pray you do not have to find out."

Drakuru looked aside at her dubiously as they approached the ruins. They circled around along the beach to minimize the number of enemies they might have to fight through in order to reach the crypt. With her bow, Theryn downed a couple of defenders next to the entrance, and the two of them slipped inside.

In the close quarters inside the crypt's corridors, Theryn stayed back and let Drakuru handle the melee fighting, watching their back for anyone following them in or trying to sneak up on them.

"Aha," Drakuru said quietly. "I think those are the tablets we're looking for in that sacrificial chamber up ahead."

The room contained several cages for victims to be sacrificed, and not all of them were empty. Theryn let out a groan as she recognized one of the prisoners.

"Harrison Jones," Theryn said with a sigh.

"Theryn!" Harrison said. "Look, kid, this place is too dangerous for you to be hangin' out. Don't worry, though. I'm about to make a break for it. You just stay behind me and I'll get you out of here safely." Harrison let out a grunt as he pushed open the door to his cage.

"You recognized me?" Theryn asked.

"Don't know many night elves that wear a nose ring and put up their hair like a troll," Harrison said as he went over to free the other prisoners. "You dressed like that at Zul'Aman, too, remember?"

"I've been trying to forget Zul'Aman, thanks," Theryn said. She glanced over to Drakuru, who had wasted no time in collecting the tablets. Good. They might just need to make a break for it if Harrison did something stupid.

Harrison walked over to a gong and loudly banged on it a couple times. "Hmm, odd. That usually does it."

"Does what?" wondered the human woman he'd rescued.

"Don't ask--just run," Theryn said, grabbing Drakuru's arm and making for the exit posthaste.

As they fled down the main corridor, the sounds of loud serpentine hissing could be heard from the sacrificial chamber. The woman, to her credit, didn't argue with Theryn's advice and ran after them. Theryn didn't stop fleeing until they reached the camp again. Panting softly, Theryn flopped down next to the fire.

"Spirits, was that human insane or just an idiot?" Drakuru asked.

"The latter, I think," Theryn said. "I hope you got what you were looking for."

"I did," Drakuru said, grinning. "That's the last item."

"Excellent," Theryn said. "So, what now?"

"Now we'll be heading back west again." He glanced pointedly at their company, clearly not wanting to go into detail in front of them.

Out in the wild, there was always a chance of someone or something showing up in the night to disturb their sleep. Theryn was used to taking her chances and sleeping alone, as was simply a necessity a lot of the time. She didn't begrudge the opportunity to rest in a relatively safe outpost and let somebody else worry about guarding her for a change, however. Her bedroll never ceased to be a welcome feeling after a long day of traveling and fighting.

"Theryn..." Drakuru whispered.

"Mm?" Theryn murmured, one eye cracked open toward him.

Drakuru grinned crookedly. "Mind if I join you there?"

Theryn's lips spread into a small smile as well. "Be my guest."


	7. Drak'Tharon Keep

"So, this is it, huh?" Theryn said as they set off into the wilderness once again. She couldn't say that she hadn't enjoyed her time with Drakuru, and now she was afraid that time was going to end, and that they would part ways.

"With the help of these ancient relics, we will be able to lay claim to Drak'Theron Keep's greatest treasures," Drakuru said with a grin. "But we may need to fight our way through. Are you up for it? I don't know that I would have been able to make it this far without your assistance."

Theryn returned his grin, and pulled out her bow. "Let's do this."

For once in her life, she felt like she did not need to be ashamed for prefering to use the bow. A rogue that used a bow? A hunter without a pet? Pure archers were only good as support, they'd always told her, not as adventurers. It did not matter to her any longer what she might be labeled, so long as she could do it at Drakuru's side. Now, after a week of traveling, they stood at the wide stairs, and she felt like she could take on Drak'Tharon Keep. She felt like she could take on the world.

Arrow after arrow flew from her bow as she took down the Scourged trolls in their way. "Which way are we heading?"

"Straight to the top," Drakuru replied.

Theryn snorted softly. "So, you got a rope or a flying mount? Otherwise, this isn't going to be very straight."

Drakuru chuckled. "Alright then, to the top by any means necessary."

They fought their way through the halls of Drak'Tharon keep, past ghouls and mummies. Their path brought them through the raptor den, forcing them to carefully skirt a devilsaur. Theryn had no idea why the trolls were even keeping the thing. If she had ever succeeded at being a hunter, she might have even been able to tame it, if she wanted a pet that would never be able to fit into anywhere.

With a trail of corpses in their wake, the two of them climbed up to the overlook. The sky stretched above them, stark and cold, bleak clouds hanging unforgivingly over Northrend. Something seemed to be missing. Theryn had expected to find whoever ruled the keep here, waiting for them and needing to be slain, but instead the overlook stood empty. She tensed, expecting an ambush.

"Is this the place?" Theryn asked quietly.

Drakuru nodded, beaming. "I'll perform the ritual now."

Theryn said, "I'll keep an eye out for interruptions."

Bringing out the relics that they had collected, Drakuru stepped to the center of the platform. Theryn couldn't see what he was doing exactly, but she heard him chanting. What did this ritual entail? And what would be the result? What sort of treasures did Drak'Tharon Keep hold that would soon be in their hands?

"For your efforts," Drakuru said finally, "you will receive the greatest reward. Knowledge, and the opportunity to witness my ascension! Be still, my friend, and behold what your deeds have wrought!"

Theryn blinked and stared at him in confusion. What was he talking about? Where was the treasure they'd come here for?

The air rippled, and a shimmering portal appeared. An imposing figure in dark armor adorned with skulls strode out of the portal. One glance at his glowing ice-blue eyes sent an almost palpable chill down Theryn's spine, and she went cold to the bone as she realized who he was. The Lich King himself? Here?

Drakuru knelt before the armored man. "Master, I have completed my mission. With the help of this mortal, I have cleansed the region of all who would seek to oppose us."

This couldn't be happening. Surely she had misinterpreted the situation. Surely it couldn't be the Lich King. It was some other ominous armored figure with a mysterious glowing blue sword. It could be anyone, right?

"You have done well, Drakuru," the man intoned in an echoing voice. "Your betrayal of the Drakkari has borne me a new army. This army shall be yours to command in your next task for me: The conquest of Zul'Drak. But first, your gift..."

Strange, dark magic enveloped Drakuru's body, twisting it and warping it. He became larger and stronger, and his pale blue skin darkened to a sickly teal. Where his eyes had been amber or gold before, now they glowed red.

"Drakuru..." Theryn whispered beneath her breath. It wasn't that his new form was unattractive. But she'd liked him just fine the way he had been.

"Should you succeed in your task, even greater power awaits you," the armored figure went on. "Do not fail me, Drakuru."

"As you wish, Master."

The man turned on his armored heel and strode back into the portal, vanishing from whence he had come. Theryn continued to stare speechlessly at Drakuru, taking in the changes and trying to process what this all could possibly mean.

"Forgive my deception, Theryn," Drakuru said. "This was all for your own good."

"For my own good?" Theryn repeated incredulously. "I... well, unless there isn't any treasure here at all, the only deception was one of omission. But still. What in the Twisting Nether is going on here? Was that who I think it was?"

"That was, indeed, the Lich King himself," Drakuru replied.

That's what she'd been afraid of. Theryn let out a sigh. "So why did you do this?"

Drakuru grinned. "You were the one who captured me, and then released me and aided me. I had high hopes for you, that you could prove yourself, and that you did, with flying colors. I will need a worthy lieutenant, one ready to command real power."

"I... see," Theryn said uncertainly.

"You've seen for yourself, the Lich King is generous to those who follow him," Drakuru said. "Power and immortality can be yours if you take this path."

"But, what about us?"

"As Scourge, we would be undead, immortal," Drakuru said. "We would never grow old. We would never die. We could rule the world, side by side, as the Lich King's hands, forever."

Theryn stared at him. Somehow, she could only conclude that he did seriously think that this would be a good thing. Did he really think this was romantic? Well, he was a troll, and now an undead troll. Trolls tended to think that things like necklaces of gouged-out eyeballs were romantic.

Even so, she still could not simply dismiss the suggestion out of hand. Where had this path ever gotten her? Starving, freezing, rejected, abused. Expected to save the day and then forgotten the next. Nobody listened to her suggestions. Nobody cared about her wishes.

"Theryn?" Drakuru asked quietly.

"Sorry, this is just a lot to take in at once," Theryn said.

"Give it some thought," Drakuru said. "I'm making you a sincere offer. Should you decide to accept, come and find me in Zul'Drak."

"You could have explained what you were up to in the first place," Theryn said. "Did you need my help so desperately that you had to hide that from me?"

"You might have refused, and I did not know if I could retrieve the relics on my own," Drakuru said.

She wanted to blame him. She wanted to hate him. And yet, she was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer. Even if she just walked away and took the next boat out of Northrend, she still could not bring herself to blame him for his actions.

Out of curiosity, Theryn asked, "What does it feel like?"

Drakuru chuckled. "It's incredible. Like nothing I could have ever imagined. I feel strong, and with such power at my fingertips. There is no pain, no discomfort from the cold, no hunger or thirst. All those mortal flaws and weaknesses are gone."

He seemed happy. More than that, he didn't seem like some mindless drone with no thought or will of his own, like many of the Scourge she'd encountered. That was what had made her always fear the plague. She did not want to become some mindless husk shambling like a puppet for eternity. If that would not be the case... what was the problem? She was having a hard time answering that question.

"Let me think on it for a bit," Theryn finally said.

Drakuru nodded. "I'll see you in Zul'Drak, then, I hope."

She gave him a weak smile, and turned and walked away.


	8. Indecision

Theryn could hardly believe that she got out of Drak'Tharon Keep alive. She stumbled north out into the wastelands of Zul'Drak, hardly paying attention to where she was going, vision blurry with unshed tears. It was a wonder she'd kept it together inside. Of course, part of that was that she'd been seriously, honestly tempted to say to the Twisting Nether with it all and just go along with Drakuru, even if it meant serving the Lich King.

Now that she was safely out of there? She was horrified. Completely off-balance, she didn't know what to think. Drakuru had used her, betrayed her, and claimed it was all for her own good? Fuck that. Seriously, fuck that. She didn't need anyone telling her what was for her own good or not. She could decide things for herself!

Hardly paying attention to where she was going, she stumbled into an encampment. The fact that they didn't shoot her on sight indicated that they were friendly, and beyond that she didn't really care who they were.

"Refugee from Drak'Tharon?" asked a human woman. "Don't worry, you'll be safe here for the moment."

They took her for a troll. Of course, she was still dressed as one. Most night elves didn't go around disguising themselves as trolls, after all. She didn't argue, and simply took the food and shelter provided. Physically, she was fine, but mentally and emotionally, she was a wreck. Between her incoherent thoughts and jumbled feelings, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Theryn!" called a familiar goblin voice.

She glanced up from her ale, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes and wonder how Vizzik had managed to find her at Argent Stand. As it was, she'd sought out the closest thing to civilization in Zul'Drak after arriving here, and had already lost count of the days she'd been drowning in alcohol. It might have been a little surprising that they had a bar even out here, but she supposed that on the front lines of fighting the Scourge, they needed whatever comfort they could get.

"Vizzik," Theryn said evenly. "It's not like I'm in hiding under a disguise or anything here. Why don't you just shout my name so everyone can hear?"

"Theryn, I'm so glad I found you," Vizzik said. "How'd the deal with Samir go?"

"I had to fake my own death to avoid an Alliance bounty on my head as a traitor," Theryn said, and downed her ale.

"Oh," Vizzik said. "So, about par for the course, then."

Theryn snorted softly. "So, I take it you've got another stupid job for me, huh?"

"Yes, indeed!" Vizzik said excitedly. "I had to come up to Zul'Drak to see the situation on the ground, so to speak. Of course, I didn't come without my bodyguards. Anyway, everyone's talking about how the Scourge here have suddenly been making a new push to take over Zul'Drak."

Grimacing, Theryn buried her face in one hand, and called for the bartender by raising the other. "Another ale, please."

"Yeah, don't blame you for that," Vizzik said. "Things are pretty nasty out here. Lots of opportunity for a profit!"

"How is this good for profit?"

"There's this old goblin saying, 'War is good for profit.' Of course, there's this other old goblin saying, 'Peace is good for profit.' Well, never mind that."

"Goblins find war good for profit because you sell weapons to both sides," Theryn pointed out. "The Scourge aren't going to be buying weapons from you."

"Well, true, but _everyone's_ out to fight the Scourge," Vizzik said. "The Horde, the Alliance, the Argent Crusade, the Cenarion Circle, the Ebon Blade--though let me tell you, those death knights are kind of creepy. And they all need weapons and supplies. Anyway, there's a call out for every able-bodied adventurer they can get their hands on. And undead adventurers. And, well, anyone that will help. Nobody wants to see the Scourge take over the world, after all. They're all... _communist_."

Theryn gave him a long look. Of all the arguments she'd heard about the Scourge, that was by far the weakest.

"Anyway, if you're here, I'm sure you've already heard the call and come to collect the profits," Vizzik said. "I can stay here where it's safe and collect jobs and rumors and information and direct supplies and make sure those nasty undead are beaten back to Icecrown."

"I don't know that it's really all that safe here," Theryn drawled. "You might want to head back to Howling Fjord. Or better, to Kalimdor. The Scourge could advance on our position at any moment."

Vizzik looked thoughtful for a few moments, then shook his head. "No, no. It's risky, but I have to remain available to catch the opportunities as they arise. That's why I'm in Northrend, after all."

Theryn shrugged. "Hey, it's your funeral if the Scourge break through the lines. Anyway, I've got a job offer I'd like to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Vizzik said, leaning close and raising an eyebrow. "Good on you, keeping your long elf--er, troll, you're totally a troll, really--um... ears to the ground. Let's have the deets."

"The benefits I've been promised are quite excellent," Theryn said, staring off at nothing. "And I'm rather fond of the employer, but..."

"Fond?" Vizzik snorted softly. "You mean like, you _like_ them? You have feelings? You're in _love_?" Vizzik put an elbow on the bar and poked at Theryn, who wasn't refuting his comments. "Look, girl. Don't let emotions get in the way of your decisions. Business relationships are no place for romantic entanglements. Now, put the facts on the table. I'm not involved and can tell you objectively whether it's a good idea or not!"

Theryn finished her current mug of ale with a sigh. "Yeah, not here. Let's go talk in private."

"Right. Don't want anyone else getting wind of this windfall. Let's keep the profits for ourselves."

Heading away from the area that passed for an inn at the outpost, Theryn led the goblin off to one of the outbuildings. Much of Zul'Drak was covered in old troll buildings in varying states of repair, many of which had been occupied by the Argent Crusade. She glanced around a bit and picked one that was currently unoccupied, so as not to be interrupted.

"I met a troll in Grizzly Hills," Theryn began. "One of the native Drakkari, an ice troll."

"Ah, I'd bet the natives know a lot about the area," Vizzik said.

Theryn nodded in agreement. "Yeah. He told me about some ancient troll relics and I helped to retrieve them for a cut of the profits." Which she had yet to see, but she omitted that part.

"So, what's the job offer?" Vizzik asked. "More treasure hunting? That can be very profitable, and is far less dangerous than fighting the Scourge. Of course, it also tends to involve trapped tombs and mummified trolls and things like that."

"Not quite," Theryn said. "He was able to use the relics we we retrieved to gain a position of power, and offered me a place as his lieutenant."

"Ooh, moving up in the world," Vizzik said. "Wait. He does know you're a night elf, doesn't he? Your disguise isn't _that_ good."

Theryn snickered. "Yes, he is well aware of my biological species."

"Heh. Well, either way, what's the catch? You ready to settle down and be a troll full-time?"

"It's... not really that, either," Theryn said, frowning. Now that she'd gotten to this point, she wasn't sure what to tell him.

"Well, spit it out, then," Vizzik said. "Sabercat got your tongue?"

"He's not really on the side most of Azeroth is," Theryn groused.

"Sure, he's not with the Alliance, or Horde, and not any of the goblin cartels or other unaffiliated factions, either," Vizzik said. "The Drakkari Empire is going to take a lot of work to rebuild, though. It's still going to mean fighting the Scourge."

Theryn sighed. This wasn't going to get any easier. "No. It's going to mean fighting the Horde and Alliance."

"The trolls are fighting them?" Vizzik wondered in confusion.

"His name is Drakuru," Theryn said. "He's the overlord of the Scourge forces in Zul'Drak."

Vizzik stared at her speechlessly for a long moment. "I'm lost here. Did I hear you right? You want to join the Scourge?"

"Not precisely, but something like that?" Theryn said. "It's not that I want to. It's that I'm wondering if I should take him up on his offer, but that I don't know whether it's mainly my feelings for Drakuru that make it seem like a good idea, or if it actually would be beneficial to me to do so."

Vizzik rubbed his head and let out a frustrated sound. "Alright, first things first. This troll is undead now, and will never be able to return your affections, if he ever did in the first place."

"Yeah, point taken," Theryn said. "But he doesn't have to and I don't really expect him to. I still have _my_ feelings."

The goblin rolled his eyes. "Fucking elves and their _feelings_. You'd never make it as a proper troll if you keep talking like this. Anyway, second point. Scourge tend to be mindless killing machines."

"Drakuru isn't," Theryn pointed out. "I'd assume if I were to become his lieutenant willingly, that I'd need to retain my intelligence in order to carry out that position."

"That's some assumption," Vizzik said. "And even if you did retain your intelligence, you sure as the Twisting Nether wouldn't retain your free will. The Lich King would own you, body and soul, and you'd have a bitch of a time getting free again. Not that you'd even be able to so much as _think_ of freedom."

Theryn grunted softly, slumping against the wall.

"Fine, don't take my word on it," Vizzik said. "Go have a nice chat with those death knights over at Ebon Watch. They know what it's really like firsthand. They can tell you what it was like running with the Scourge, being under the Lich King's thumb."

"I think I will," Theryn said, nodding distantly.

"And if they can't dissuade you from this mad idea, I wish you good fucking luck," Vizzik said. "You'll need it, girl." Sighing and shaking his head, the goblin walked off, leaving Theryn alone with her thoughts.


	9. Darkness Calling

Theryn set out from Argent Stand the next morning. She hadn't slept very well, but that wasn't unusual. Ever since she'd parted ways with Drakuru, she'd barely been able to sleep. When she did manage to fall asleep, her dreams were haunted with the image of Drakuru's face changing before her eyes, over and over, as the Lich King's laugh echoed in her mind.

The roads in western Zul'Drak were treacherous, swarming with undead. Theryn pulled out her bow to try to snipe them. One arrow flew and embedded itself into the face of a ghoul. Its companions looked up in alarm and quickly began to close on her. A second met a geist's shoulder, and a third zipped through the air to hit only a dead tree. Then the undead were upon her.

Frantically, Theryn reached for her daggers, only to remember too late that Drakuru had never returned them. Spitting a curse in Zandali, she pulled her backup knife out from her boot and stabbed the geist in the eye as it grabbed at her. The other ghoul leaned so close that she could smell its fetid stench, pawing at her clumsily with dull, worn claws. Gagging, Theryn looped her leg around its foot and knocked it to the ground, and slashed her knife across its throat in one swift movement.

That was only a flesh wound to an undead, however. The ghoul writhed about and rolled over onto its back, trying to climb to its feet again. Theryn jammed her knife into its spine, and it twitched limply. Still it kept moving until Theryn completely hacked its head off with several fierce cuts, leaving her breathless.

Panting softly, Theryn felt something twining around her ankle. It was the geist, blindly groping around, still on the ground. She stomped on its hands a few times, then stabbed it in the head for good measure. Fucking undead. She'd never liked fighting the things.

She'd gotten used to having someone at her side, and being alone again felt awkward and wrong. Maybe she really was meant to be a hunter after all, and had simply never found the proper animal companion who would bond with her and be loyal and never leave her side.

The first ghoul remained laying on the ground several feet strides away where she'd first shot it, staring blankly up into the air. It continued to twitch and spasm, not fully dead or even properly stopping moving like a living being, but not quite sure what it was supposed to be doing, either.

Theryn stared at it for a long moment, and noticed a satchel that it had dropped at its side. Hoping for coins, or some sort of loot she could at least sell to get back on her feet, she snatched up the bag and peered inside, and pulled out a strange object. A finely crafted bone choker, stained with blood and carved with intricate designs. As she touched it, it felt like an ominous presence descended upon her, and a dark taint crept down her fingers. She should put it on. She should wear it. It would make her stronger. More powerful. Greater than she'd ever been before.

Shaking her head deliberately, she shoved the choker into her pack. It was obviously magical, and would probably improve her combat ability, but she needed weapons more right now. She could sell it at a vendor, or at the auction house in Dalaran, and hopefully earn enough coin from the transaction to purchase a new set of daggers.

* * *

Ebon Watch was hardly more than a ramshackle assortment of tents thrown together in the Scourge-infested wastelands of Zul'Drak. Theryn was used to much worse, though, and was perfectly happy to have someone else to keep watch over her in the wilderness, even if they were death knights and ghouls.

"Reinforcements from the Horde?" asked a human death knight in Orcish, looking her over.

"Not exactly," Theryn said with a shrug. "Just me. I be Zira Darkbow." She was going a little light on the troll accent, but hoped the assumed name would keep bounty hunters off her trail.

"Stefan Vadu," the death knight introduced himself with a salute across his chest. "I won't turn away anyone that comes to fight the Scourge."

"I be seeing what I can do," Theryn said, going to settle in next to the fire.

"I hope you didn't run into too much trouble on the road," Stefan said. "Scourge activity has stepped up in this area recently. They have a new commander named Drakuru. We've been tracking him since he travelled through Grizzly Hills and have plans to eradicate him."

Theryn glanced up at him in alarm, unable to hide her surprise and concern. "You have?"

Stefan smiled grimly at her, and switched to Common. "I suspected that was you. Yes, we know about your involvement with the Scourge, Theryn Shadowhand. No, I am not going to turn you over to the Alliance. If I have a problem with you, I will deal with you myself."

Letting out a heavy sigh, she stared into the fire and slumped her shoulders. There wasn't any sense in trying to escape. She knew perfectly well that she was surrounded, and there were armed ex-Scourge behind her blocking her way out.

"Why don't you tell me your side of the story?" Stefan said. "You were a willing accomplice, but were you aware of what Drakuru intended?"

"No," Theryn said, shaking her head. "I'll admit that I didn't have any altruistic motives, but I thought that we were just stealing the old troll relics to sell for gold. I-- I had no idea that he was working for the Scourge until he called up the Lich King in Drak'Tharon Keep."

Stefan nodded tersely. "That's what I suspected. And yet, you left Drak'Tharon Keep alive and free. What passed between you there? What did he say to you?"

Theryn hesitated, then sighed again. This was why she'd come to Ebon Watch, after all. Even if she hadn't intended the death knights to know the details of her involvement. "He offered me a position as his lieutenant," she finally answered quietly.

"I see," Stefan said. "I can tell right here from your flushed cheeks and rapid breath that you are no undead. What did you tell him? Did you come here intending to spy on us?"

"No. I didn't intend to spy on anyone," Theryn said. "I told him I would think about it, and promised to meet up with him again later."

"So he just let you walk away, on your word?" Stefan said. "He trusts you that much?"

"I don't know how much he trusts me, but he did let me walk away, I suppose." She peered at him. "If you knew what he intended, why didn't you do anything to stop us?"

"We did not have the resources in position to do so," the death knight replied. "The two of you made a formidable team, and would have been easily capable of defeating our scouts."

"I don't know if I should be annoyed or flattered," Theryn said with a smirk.

Stefan shifted and looked at her calculatingly. "So, Theryn, what do you plan to do now? Are you going to help fight the Scourge... or take Drakuru up on his offer?"

Theryn winced at the question. "I'm sure you can give me plenty of good reasons why the latter would be a terrible idea."

"Is that what you came here for, then?" Stefan asked. "Hoping that we could talk you out of doing something foolish?"

She hated how perceptive he was being. Not answering, she simply continued to stare into the fire, clenching her jaw.

Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know why you would even consider such a thing. You don't strike me as the sort of mad cultist I've generally had to deal with. Is it greed rather than pure madness? Lust for power or yearning for immortality?"

The fire danced in Theryn's vision as she thought about her real motivations. She'd be able to be with Drakuru forever. She'd have real power and a place in the world. She'd need never go hungry again. She sighed, and told him, "Desperation and misplaced affection."

Stefan grunted softly. "Well, I appreciate your honesty, if nothing else. You had feelings for Drakuru?"

"And he used me," Theryn said dismally. "I know."

"I'm sorry," Stefan said.

"I know that if he ever felt anything for me, he certainly doesn't now," Theryn said. "And I honestly don't need you to tell me what a terrible idea this is. At this point, though, I honestly don't know _what_ to do anymore."

Her hand slipped into her pack and lightly caressed the choker she'd found this morning. It would be so easy to simply embrace the darkness. To slip away from the camp and place the choker around her neck, and make her way to Drakuru. They could serve the Lich King together for eternity, and things would be wonderful.

"What is that?" Stefan's voice cut into her drifting thoughts.

Theryn blinked out of her reverie and looked down to see the bone choker clenched tightly in her hand, and dropped it into the dust as though it were a venomous snake. "I don't know. I found it on a ghoul this morning."

Stefan strode over to her and bent down, and picked up the choker gingerly. "It is fortunate for you that you did not wear this. I am familiar with objects such as this." He smirked. "Would you like to see a demonstration of what would have happened?"

Theryn made a face. "No. I'll take your word on it."

"It is no coincidence that this found its way into your hands," Stefan said. "A dark fate was meant to befall you. It seems Drakuru was not content with your promise, and created a backup means of luring you in."

Letting her eyes slide shut, Theryn clenched her fists in silent rage. "It's bad enough that he used me once, but he can't even let me decide for myself now that I know the truth of his intentions?"

"Such is the way of the Scourge," Stefan said. "They are not great proponents of choice and free will. If the Lich King wishes something of you, you will give it to him, you will do his bidding, whether you wish to do so or not."

"How did you and the other death knights ever get free of that?" Theryn asked quietly.

Stefan gave a faint smile. "It was something of a miracle, you might say. Not by our own will, but by the power of the Light on holy ground, wielded by a man of purest heart. An event that none expected to ever happen, and I would not wager on happening again."

Theryn's stomach clenched at the thought of what she'd almost walked into, staring at the carved choker held delicately between Stefan's hands. "What are you going to do about him?"

"On board with the fight now?" Stefan asked. "Willing to work against Drakuru?"

Theryn nodded with terseness and deliberation. "I will do anything in my power to stop Drakuru. I swear it."

"I'm glad to hear that," Stefan said with a small grin. "Perhaps we can turn his desires into an opportunity, and use this against him. I have an idea..."


	10. Reunited

Theryn returned to Ebon Watch with a collection of disgusting materials that Stefan Vadu had asked for, fortunately being carried by the ghoul he'd loaned her rather than stinking up her own pack.

"Ah, good, you're back," Stefan said. "Did you bring the components I asked for?"

"Yeah," Theryn replied, gesturing the ghoul forward. "Now will you tell me the details of this plan?"

Stefan retrieved the satchel of slimy undead pieces from the ghoul, brought out the bone choker, and got to work on it. "Drakuru has you in his sights, and he will not let you go easily. Once the Scourge sets their mind on something, they'll stop at nothing to do it. Whether you wish it or not, you're doomed to an existence of serving the Lich King... unless we do something about it."

Theryn nodded tersely, setting her jaw. Maybe her fate would be better if she went willingly... but her freedom was not something she would give up without a fight.

"I'm creating a disguise to make others perceive you as undead," Stefan said. "You will be infiltrating the Scourge. I'm sure you're aware that this is likely a suicide mission."

"Be that as it may, Drakuru needs to be stopped, and I'm likely in the best position to discover his plans and derail them," Theryn said.

"Feeling altruistic now?" Stefan said with a faint smirk.

Theryn sighed. "Just trying to convince myself that this is all for a good reason than that I'm likely dead either way."

"Indeed," Stefan said.

"I've spent all my life seeking wealth and chasing hopeless dreams," Theryn went on quietly. "If I'm going to die, I'd like it to actually mean something and maybe make a difference for once."

He held up the bone choker to inspect his handiwork. "There. This will do the job." He handed it to her.

Theryn took it uncertainly and examined it, still wary of what it was like before, but it did not give off the same aura of darkness as it had previously. No longer did it compel her to wear it and give herself over to the Scourge. Relaxing a little, Theryn nodded to him.

"If things go badly, this will turn into a death sentence," Stefan said. "You may wind up wishing to cast yourself into a bonfire, lest you be forced to face your former friends and allies on the battlefield. I will destroy you should it become necessary, but believe me when I say that I shall take no pleasure in doing so."

"I'll keep that in mind," Theryn said. "Where do you think I can find Drakuru?"

"I suspect that he is likely overseeing the Scourge in Zul'Drak from the necropolis called Voltarus." Stefan pointed to a spot on a map spread out on a table. "You can find it here, to the northeast. The necropolis will be floating high above the Reliquary of Pain, and you will need to use the teleporter below it to enter."

"Understood," Theryn said. "Will I be running silent, or do you have a way to contact you during my mission?"

"I will be keeping an eye on the area from the back of my frost wyrm, Persistence," Stefan said. "When you have something to report, blow this horn." He handed her a small horn. "It sounds on a frequency that only frost wyrms can hear. I'll land and meet up with you then."

Theryn raised an eyebrow. "Won't someone _notice_ a huge skeletal dragon flying around and talking to me?"

"Yes, but frost wyrms are hardly a rare sight amongst the Lich King's forces," Stefan said. "Just be sure to put a bit of distance between yourself and the Reliquary, and Drakuru won't think anything is amiss. And if it gets to a point where you need to blow your cover, I can probably extract you, but I make no promises. Even a death knight and a frost wyrm cannot fight off an army of Scourge."

"This is a terrible idea," Theryn said.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Can't you just tell me what you need me to do ahead of time?" Theryn asked.

Stefan shook his head. "No. We need that information as much as anything. Especially if something goes wrong and you wind up dead." He paused and narrowed his eyes at her darkly. "Or you decide to change your mind."

Theryn sighed, and nodded. "Fine. Let's do it."

* * *

It was unsettling for geists and ghouls to ignore her and treat her as just another undead. The magic Stefan had done on the choker didn't just change her appearance, with sickly, pockmarked skin, but also tricked their senses.

She wasn't prepared for this. She would never be prepared for this. She didn't know what to say. How could one move on from that sort of betrayal? How could she trust anyone again? How could she live?

No. She shook her head mentally. She wasn't about to go down that road again. She'd already had enough self-reproach, and drowned it in booze. Now, she couldn't waver. She had a role to play. She had a mission to perform. She had a duty.

Theryn stepped on the teleportation platform and steeled herself for pain.

Drakuru's red eyes lit up when he saw her. "Theryn!" He spoke in a raspy, husky Zandali. With all the differences, she could hardly believe it was him. Maybe it would be easier to think of him as some monster bearing her dead lover's name.

"Drakuru..." Theryn said in hardly more than a whisper.

"I see you got my little gift," Drakuru said. "I hope you like it. Ah, you look splendid. Let me get a good look at you. Whether elf or troll, you make a fine Scourge."

Theryn stood silent, not sure whether she should appreciate the compliment at face value, or simply be horrified over it.

"We've come a long way together, you and I," Drakuru went on. "And we've a long way yet to go. Stay by my side, and we will one day soon be the left and right hand of the Lich King."

"Where we go from here?" Theryn asked in half-choked Zandali. She didn't need to fake a any sort of harsh voice or something that might sound like undead.

"Here," he said, gesturing toward a place where the walls of the necropolis were open, giving a good view of the land below. "Let me tell you about what I have planned for Zul'Drak."

"I look," Theryn said. "I listen."

Zul'Drak was dark and already tainted, the skies constantly overcast and giving the impression that it was always night, and even the sun did little to dispel the gloom of the wretched place. It was worse even than the Plaguelands. That place still had a spark of hope. This? Zul'Drak was doomed. It would take a stalwart effort to drive the Scourge from this land. And none of that could even begin until Drakuru was dead. For now, it was all the Argent Crusade could do to hold the line.

Off to the right, Drakuru gestured toward the Argent Stand, luminous in the shrouded realm. "The self-righteous fools who fight us. A hopeless battle. They all must die." He turned to point off into the distance, at a structure barely visible from here, much like Drak'Theron Keep, but she could tell even from here that it was much larger. "Gundrak," Drakuru explained. "That is our ultimate goal in Zul'Drak."

"You have all these plans," Theryn said. "I follow your lead all this time. I go where you want. When I make plans? When I decide?"

Drakuru turned to her, red eyes looking her over curiously. "What would you want to do?"

She turned around and walked over to a map of Azeroth that she'd seen on a table, and gazed down at it with a scowl as Drakuru stepped over beside her to look over her shoulder. Theryn slapped a hand against the Eastern Kingdoms and growled, "Destroy the Alliance." She slapped Kalimdor and snarled, "Destroy the Horde." She slammed her fist into Teldrassil so hard that she tore the paper. "And especially _them_. The night elves. Kill them all. Kill everyone. Fuck the world."

Drakuru stared at her for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed, and clapped his hand on her shoulder. "I like the way you think. We'll get there. We've a long way to go, but one day, you will get your wish."

She didn't even have to entirely fake those feelings, and that was the sad thing, and somewhat scary, but it would cement her cover and give Drakuru no reason to doubt her for a moment. She just hoped that it would wind up being worth it.


	11. Zul'Drak Style

Stefan nodded at her report. "This is consistent with what we know. Continue to earn his trust, and while you're at it, I want you to do what you can to sabotage the efforts of the Scourge in this area."

"I'll see what I can do," Theryn said. "Did you have something specific in mind?"

"I do indeed," Stefan said. He pulled out a vial of some sort of green liquid and handed it to her. "Pour a little of this into each of the blight cauldrons in the Reliquary of Pain, if you get a chance to do so and it wouldn't blow your cover to do so. It will render this batch useless and force them to brew a new batch."

Theryn took the vial and put it into her bag with a nod. "I don't know if I'll get the opportunity, but I'll try."

"Drakuru will probably assign you tasks to perform for him," Stefan said. "Do whatever you must, but if he tells you to do something that would compromise operations here and risk the lives of those fighting the Scourge, I want you to call me and tell me and we can decide how to proceed from there."

"Of course," she said, and then smirked, patting her bag. "This sort of thing is all well and good, but I hope you won't mind if I take the initiative to take whatever opportunity I see. I can't consult you on everything, and if I tried, the opportunity might well have passed by that point."

"Fine, but don't screw this up," Stefan said with a scowl. "A lot is riding on this, and not just your own life."

"And that's exactly why. Is there anything else? I don't want to be seen talking to you, and I should get back to Voltarus."

"No, that's all for now."

Stefan climbed up onto the back of his skeletal dragon mount and flew off, leaving a faint trail of sparkling ice in its wake. Theryn stared after him for a long moment, before sighing a heavy, foggy breath and turning back toward the Reliquary of Pain. It was just as well she had this magical disguise, or someone might notice warmth exhaling from her nostrils.

* * *

"Theryn, if you're going to be my lieutenant, you'll need to know how to command troops," Drakuru told her. "The living are one thing to deal with. Convincing them to do what you want, bribing and bartering with them, keeping them happy." He shook his head and waved a hand. "None of that here. You're dealing with Scourge now. And with the dead, all that matters is raw strength of will. And I know you have that in spades."

"I can handle it," Theryn said with a grin. Unless it involved some direct connection to the Lich King or something. In which case she was fucked.

"Good. I know you can. There's some geists down below who are supposed to be collecting crystals, but they've been being lazy and slow about it. Take this," he handed her a short bone rod. "Use it to give the geists a little nudge. Make them get back to work."

"What, hit them with it?" Theryn asked.

Drakuru laughed. "No, no, nothing so crude as that. It's a magic rod. A scepter of suggestion. You use it to impose your will upon another being. This won't work on anything that isn't weak-willed already. It's not strong enough for that. But for things like ghouls and geists? That'll be more than enough, once you get the hang of it. Go get some practice, and see what you can do."

"Hmm." Theryn turned the rod over in her hands. "Can I make them do anything with this?"

Drakuru grinned. "I don't imagine they'd be able to handle more complex instructions, but you're welcome to try."

"Okay," Theryn said with a mischievous grin, and headed for the teleporter.

She ran her fingers down the rod, wondering how it worked. A scepter of suggestion, huh. Time to try this out, then.

One of the geists was sitting away from the others, crouched down and looking around but not really doing anything. Lifting her arm, she held out the rod toward the geist, and tried to activate it. But it didn't do anything on its own. She could feel, almost feel, the mind of the geist in front of her. Was this anything like how hunters bonded with animals? That'd she never been able to get the hang of? If it was, she was shit out of luck.

But no. The geist looked up at her expectantly, as if waiting for orders, acknowledging her control. Through the rod, she sent her will at it to get up and get back to work. The geist stood reluctantly, a little unbalanced for a moment, then looked at her in confusion. She'd need to be more specific, she figured. Pointing the scepter toward one of the crystals nearby, she willed it to go get it. With some effort, the geist picked up the crystal and carried it in his arms, and looked to her for further instructions. She directed it toward the teleporter up to Voltarus, hoping that someone could figure out what to do with it from there.

These undead weren't completely mindless as she might have thought before. This whole venture was making her question a lot of the things she'd believed about the Scourge. As she went around testing the minds of the geists and ghouls around the Reliquary of Pain, she saw that some of them were more pliant than others, some more willful, some more inclined to do certain things than others. It might not be apparent to outsiders, but they still had personality. They could still be made to do anything they were told, but she would have to be blind not to see that. Either way, it was apparent that things weren't quite as simple as Drakuru said.

Theryn went up to one of the geists, grinning, and said, "Hey. Wanna have a bit of fun?"

The geist looked up at her curiously. She wasn't sure if it could understand her, or if it got the gist of what she was saying through the rod. With a bit of effort trying to mentally explain it, she got the geist hopping around in a sort of clumsy bow-legged dance.

It dawned on her why she had always had trouble with the animals. She'd never thought about what they might want. She was only concerned about becoming a hunter. She was only thinking of herself. But now? Now what she wanted didn't matter anymore. She'd hit an all-time low for that and she'd be lucky if she survived the days to come, as an undead or otherwise.

"Can you speak?" Theryn asked.

The geist paused its flailing dance, and murmured, "Mmmmrph?"

"Not really? Well, that's okay. Here, just do what I do."

She stood beside him and put her hands on her hips, and danced. It took a bit of mental guidance, but she got the geist to mimic her movements, moving their arms and legs around wildly. It all felt so incredibly silly that she had to laugh at it, but at the moment it was a much-needed laugh after all that had happened.

"Great, let's see who else we can get in on this."

Theryn pointed her rod at a couple more of the geists. She wasn't sure how she might handle controlling more than one of them at once, but it couldn't hurt to try. Her thoughts resonated into their minds, and with a grin, she tried to get them to move in unison. That was trickier than it might have sounded, getting their movements to all line up, but they were pliable and enthusiastic, and soon she had three geists dancing to her imaginary tune.

One by one, she brought in more geists and ghouls into the dance group. The rod wasn't really good for controlling large numbers of undead, but she found with some practice that if she used it to give them the instructions, they'd be able to follow it on their own. If they wanted to, at least. Some of them got bored or annoyed and scurried off when she tried to get them to dance, and she couldn't be bothered chasing them down. The ones that were left here, though? They were the ones who wanted to dance.

After getting around three dozen lesser undead dancing for her, she heard Drakuru's laugh behind her and turned toward him in surprise.

"I didn't expect you'd be able to control that many undead at once with that weak scepter," Drakuru said.

"Well..." Theryn said, giggling. "I was trying to practice, like you said, and I thought it was funny."

She turned back toward the troupe of dancing undead and tried to signal them to stop dancing. Only one of them did, the first one she'd been working with, who diligently scrambled over to her side like a puppy. The rest just kept right on flailing about. Snorting softly, she raised the rod and waved it to them, focusing on thinking a single word, _stop_. This time, all but one of them went still, over in the corner shaking its butt like an idiot. Smirking, Theryn pointed the rod in that direction and willed it to stop.

The two of them -- three, really, the geist stayed at Theryn's heel -- headed back to the teleporter platform. "I knew you'd be a natural at this," Drakuru said as they materialized back in the necropolis.

"What made you think that?" Theryn wondered.

"Just a feeling."

"Come on," Theryn said, waving a hand. "Don't give me that. You don't need to butter me up with lies and flattery. Not here, not now."

"What makes you think that?" Drakuru retorted.

"Telling me that I'm strong-willed, after you led me on a merry chase before?"

"You were, and you are," Drakuru said. "You had no reason to think I had any ulterior motives beyond making money."

"If I'd been paying more attention, I might have," Theryn snapped. "If I hadn't been paying more attention to your butt than my brain."

Drakuru frowned, and said, "Yeah. Well. I'm sorry for the deception. But there's no need to worry about it anymore. We serve the Lich King now."

"Yeah." Theryn murmured. "Yeah."


	12. Fuel for the Fire

"So, do you have a name?" Theryn asked, looking down at the geist crawling at her knee as she walked away from the Reliquary of Pain. She'd been planning to go contact Stefan, but the geist wouldn't leave her side, and she hadn't had the heart to tell him to go away.

"Mmmmrrrrbllllssssss," the geist gurgled and hissed incoherently.

"Well, you need a name," Theryn said. "How about Mumbles? Will that do?"

The geist made another incoherent sound that she took to be assent. She could swear that she could still sense his mind, feel his emotions. That shouldn't be possible, though. Could it? She wasn't really a Scourge, and she didn't have the bone rod anymore. Was this how a hunter bond was supposed to be? She'd never been good with animals. Maybe it was just the way they thought. But this was no animal. This was a man.

That thought wrenched her heart more than anything. It was easy to pretend that the undead were really mindless, that geists were no smarter than dogs, that only the 'higher' forms of undead that still had any sort of strength, free will, or ability to communicate were the intelligent ones. They were individuals. They were people. And that was all taken away from them, to have them used as slave labor and cannon fodder.

Theryn wondered if the Lich King could really see through the eyes of every Scourge. If it was true, then he'd know what her plans were if she called upon Stefan while the geist was with her. But then, he'd already know she was masquerading as a Scourge. To what end? He still wouldn't know what her goals were, and she'd given no reason to think she was actually betraying Drakuru. She hadn't even managed to sabotage the cauldrons. Could the geist be following her to see what she was up to?

She couldn't risk it. Contacting Stefan now was highly likely to compromise the operation. It was time to go dark.

Either way, she was still living, albeit dizzy, tired, and hungry. It had been a long day and she needed to sleep. She looked around for a relatively safe spot to take a nap, and found one behind an outcropping of rocks. She pulled out some crusty flatbread and chewed on it unenthusiastically. At least it would stave off starvation for the moment.

"Wake me if there's trouble," she said quietly to Mumbles, who nodded and turned to watch the way into her nook.

Sleep was long in coming, without the bliss of alcohol to keep the nightmares away. In her dreams, she saw the face of Drakuru over and over, transforming before her eyes, golden eyes turning red. Turning to her, calling to her, tempting her with promises of power and immortality. And she could not open her mouth to tell him no.

But then, Drakuru was replaced by an image of undead storming the docks of Darnassus at her command, slaughtering everyone who ever opposed her. Everyone who denied her, rejected her, insulted her. Who mocked her for liking trolls, who told her she couldn't be a hunter, who said she could never be a good rogue. Ghouls stormed through the forests of Teldrassil. Geists tore the faces off of her foes. Abominations burned the land around them.

Feeling surprisingly well-rested, Theryn woke and stretched, and cast her eyes to the sky. It was hard to tell the time of day here, but she assumed that the paler gray skies were an indication that it was morning, or at least some point during the day. Mumbles was still faithfully watching over her, and followed her as she went back to the teleporter up to Voltarus.

"Are you angry with me, Theryn?" Drakuru asked as she approached.

Theryn shook her head. "No, not really."

"That geist is still following you?" Drakuru said, looking to Mumbles and raising an eyebrow.

Theryn nodded. "Yeah. He seems rather devoted."

"You do have quite the talent for this," Drakuru commented. "I don't need to give you false flattery for that. I did indeed hope that you would be able to command the undead, but I didn't antidicipate the degree or how quickly you would take to it. How have you managed this?"

Theryn turned away to look out across Zul'Drak. "I was training to be a hunter, you know. I don't remember if I ever mentioned that. They taught me everything I needed to know. How to bond with an animal, how to get it to follow you, how to give it commands. Then, when the time came for me to actually do so, to find an animal to be my companion, I failed at it utterly. I couldn't bond with any. Animals hated me and didn't want anything to do with me." She didn't even bother to look at Mumbles as she commanded him to dance silently. The slap of feet against the floor was enough to tell her that he listened to her anyway. "It seems the undead like me well enough, though."

It dawned on her that she could command an army of undead. They'd probably be better off with her than they would otherwise, anyway. It wasn't just about Drakuru anymore. What she'd dreamed about could certainly become a reality. The living couldn't stand her, but the dead didn't expect much. Maybe this really was where she belonged.

"It was a fortuitous day that I met you, Theryn," Drakuru said.

Theryn touched the choker around her neck, the only thing that held up the charade that she was Scourge. "Why did you send me this? Couldn't you have waited for me to come to you?"

"I was afraid the undead would attack you before you could get here," Drakuru said.

"Then why the compulsion enchantment?" Theryn asked. "Did you really think that I'd be tricked again that easily?"

"Not at all," Drakuru said, grinning. "I didn't think for a moment that you wouldn't be able to resist it or put it on without wishing to. But I had to let you know what it was for in some way."

She turned and looked to Mumbles, and mentally told him to stop dancing, then pinned her gaze on Drakuru, looking into those faintly glowing red eyes. "Fine, but no more. No more of this fucking going behind my back to do things 'for my own good'. You want something, just tell me."

Drakuru held up his hands. "Okay, okay. We're both serving the Lich King now. There's no need for deceptions anymore."

Theryn nodded tersely. She couldn't even bring herself to feel bad about her own deception. Not after what he pulled before. "Good. It doesn't really matter anymore. Now, I want to kill someone. Got any targets in mind just now?"

"Now that's what I like to hear," Drakuru said, grinning. "I have plans for my former brethren. Here, take this." He pulled out another bone rod, this one longer and more ornate. "This is a scepter of command. More powerful than the one I gave you before. You can use it to control abominations."

"Where?" she asked.

"The Drakkari have breached a wall just north of here. There are some Scourge holding the line there, but there's an entire army behind that wall waiting to get through."

Theryn clenched the rod and looked askance at him. "You've been standing here arguing with me while there's an army at our doorstep?"

"It would take more than a few minutes to get out there anyway," Drakuru said with a shrug. "And you still needed to be briefed."

"Fine, so, kill them all?"

"Kill most of them," Drakuru said. "The stronger ones, I have something special planned for them. You will need to pick out ones you think are strong enough and command a gargoyle to carry them back here. Think you can do that?"

"Consider it done," Theryn said with a grin.

She had Mumbles stay behind as she guided a gargoyle to the front lines. The abominations were dutifully keeping back the trolls that were trying to come through, but they couldn't hold forever. They'd clearly only been given simple instructions and were unable to make an offensive on their own, so they were just left plugging the breach with their bulk and smashing anything that came too close.

Pointing her rod at one of the abominations, she abruptly realized that their minds were a little different from most undead. It wasn't that they were strong-willed, but that they weren't entirely sane due to having been made from multiple corpses. That was... a little bit horrific, really. She'd known it, intellectually, of course. It was obvious just from looking at them. But seeing the result of the process up close, and feeling what it did to their minds? Why would anyone have thought this was a good idea? Because they were larger and stronger than their component parts would have been individually, of course.

Inside the abomination's head, it wasn't very smart. It took most of its brainpower just to manage to move its limbs in the right way, a lot of the time, it seemed like. Abominations were intended to be used for brute force operations. But that didn't mean she couldn't teach them to dance, too.

Theryn brought in her abominations to attack, taking a stealthy position perched on a pile of rubble where she could keep an eye on the battlefield without being overwhelmed by the enemy. Slashing, swiping, crushing, the abominations had no subtlety, but they were able to hold off the trolls and make a dent in their numbers.

One troll came in and didn't go down quickly. Stronger and more skilled than the others, putting up a good fight, evading most of the attacks of her troops. She pointed her scepter at the gargoyle and took control of it. On tattered wings, the gargoyle swooped in and clutched the troll's shoulders with its claws, and carried him away struggling and screaming.

The abominations were pushing the trolls back far enough that it was difficult to see from here, and some of them were getting wounded and had lost a few limbs, although none were down yet. They had to keep going rather than lure them out to make sure they didn't shoot arrows or throw spears at them, although...

With a flick of the rod, she directed the abominations to make a tactical withdrawal, and take cover back behind the remnants of the walls that had been breached. The trolls looked around in confusion as the undead retreated, then charged into the gap. One of them stood back, frowning and recognizing the feint for what it was, and tried to get the rest of them to hold back. The gargoyle had returned by then, and Theryn sent it in again to take him away.

As the trolls swarmed through the breach and into the gauntlet of abominations, Theryn commanded her troops to tear them apart. She sat back to watch the slaughter with a grin, keeping the abominations in check and making sure they could still work their limbs properly. It almost seemed as though no one even bothered teaching them to fight well. She could rectify that, though. The gargoyle came back and perched on the wall above her.

Finally, the last wave of trolls got torn up in the abattoir, and only one of them emerged from the far side alive. He tried to make a break for it, scrambling in terror across the treacherous ground. He didn't get far before Theryn's gargoyle swept him away.

Theryn looked off to the east, laughing softly at the thrill of the fight. There weren't any more foes coming. The irony of it all was that this was the first time she had really felt _alive_ in her life. Drakuru could fuck himself, but maybe he had a point about one thing. She had more potential than the fuckers who'd held her back ever realized.

Her new friends looked up at her expectantly, waiting for orders. She smiled at them, and directed them to remain here and hold the line in case anyone else tried to come through, and went back to Voltarus.

"The Drakkari have been defeated," Theryn told Drakuru as she handed back the scepter of command.

"Excellent," Drakuru said. "How many abominations did it cost?"

"None," Theryn replied.

"None?" Drakuru said with a touch of surprise.

"Well, a few of them lost limbs that might need to be stitched back on, but we took no losses."

"But, I expected you'd send them into the midst of a number of enemies and make the abominations explode."

Theryn raised an eyebrow at that. "Explode? That would be a waste of perfectly good resources. I mean, I can understand it if were necessary, but in this case, it really wasn't."

"Well enough," Drakuru said, grinning widely. "You have done very well indeed. It's time for you to see what we have been working toward." He pulled out another scepter, a larger one with ice blue runes that she could feel practically humming with power. "Take this scepter of domination as a token of my trust in you, Theryn. It will allow you to command even many of the mightiest Scourge. Keep it. You will need it. When you're ready, head upstairs to my secret laboratories and look upon our great works."


	13. Cold Heart

Curiously, Theryn looked around for the stairs, and after circling the necropolis several times, she failed to find any. Grumbling to herself, she was about to stop and get directions when she stepped on a teleporter platform she hadn't noticed before and was whooshed up to the top floor. Feeling rather silly, she went to look around.

The room was full of cages where trolls had been locked up. Some of them were no doubt the ones she had captured the previous day at the breach.

The closest one looked out at her in surprise, a small spark of hope in his eyes. "Sister?" he said in Zandali. "How did you get in here? Are you here to rescue us?"

"What?" she replied in the same language. Staring at him in confusion, she adjusted her bone choker. Had they seen through the disguise? And... mistook her for a troll. That was funny.

"Oh, I see," the troll said. "Clever disguise. That's how you got in here. How many Scourge can it fool for how long, though?"

How often had her disguise flickered and she'd never even noticed? Not while she'd been with Drakuru, unless he already knew and didn't care. If the undead she'd been commanding had noticed, they were too much under her thrall to care, either.

"Please, get us out of here," the troll begged. "If you can't save us all, then just kill us. I don't want to be a Scourge!"

She looked off at the far end of the room, where the trolls were being exposed to the energies of the blight crystals she had been collecting with the geists. The smell of blood, ichor, and decay hung heavily in the air.

"Why?" she asked distantly.

"What?" the troll replied. "What do you mean? What kind of a question is that? Sister, aren't you here to help us?"

So, this was one of many ways that people could be transformed into undead. Many procedures, with differing results. It was... rather fascinating, in addition to being disturbing. They would be stronger and more powerful than they could have ever been normally, even as undead.

"How do you live?" Theryn asked in sharp, pointed Zandali. "What is your life like?" She didn't care if her words weren't perfect or her accent was off. These trolls surely couldn't think she was a Drakkari anyway, from her coloration.

"I don't understand," the troll answered. "My life has been good..."

"Is there hunger, in your Drakkari towns?" Theryn snapped. "People can't eat because they have not enough? Is there greed? People want more? Hoard it? Keep it from helping people? Is there jealousy? Do people hate people for no good reason? Do people live afraid? Do people destroy people?"

The other trolls nearby had turned to her, listening and looking on with horrified expressions.

"You are all terrible people!" Theryn yelled, pointing at them each in turn. "I know! I'm a terrible person! But... You need not be. Maybe the world is not like you thought it was."

"What are you, some crazed cultist?" the troll in the next cage said.

"Maybe," Theryn replied, laughing softly and walking along the row of cages. "Help you. Save you. Free you." She shook her head. "This is your salvation!"

She had seen everything the world of the living had to offer. And she hated every last bit of it.

"Embrace your new lives," she said, looking back to the trolls. "You will be my children in death."

* * *

If there had been any time to contact Stefan and let him know what was going on, this would be that time. He would certainly love to hear about the blightblood trolls Drakuru was making. But now, she didn't want to. The death knights of the Ebon Blade had turned against Scourge, and she didn't entirely understand why. They should have been happy. They had power and immortality. They had eternal brotherhood. What did they have now? The hatred and distrust of the living. Was it really worth it?

Why should she care about the living? She didn't. Did that make her a crazed cultist? If so, that was okay. She could live with that. Or die with it, more likely. She was exhausted and out of food, with no real way of getting more here. What's more, she suspected that she might have the plague, but she couldn't really be sure at this point. She'd certainly been around enough of the ichor and blight of the Scourge. Soon she would have to tell Drakuru the truth. She was a little afraid of what he might say, so she'd kept putting it off. Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow, she would come clean with Drakuru.

"Come, Theryn," Drakuru said. "Let me show you what we have been working on. You have seen the process, now it's time to show you the results. It is glorious!"

He took her to the roof of the necropolis, and summoned four of the blightblood trolls. Enormous and muscular, they were mighty creatures, and as she scanned their minds it was easy to tell that they were saner and more willful than the abominations had been.

"They are indeed magnificent," she said in wonderment that was not at all feigned.

"Here, use your scepter," Drakuru said, grinning wildly. "See if you can take command of one of them."

"I most certainly can."

She pointed the scepter of domination at one of the blightbloods, getting into his mind and wrapping around it with her own will. In an instant she realized that he was one of the ones she had spoken to the other day. He was still not sure of what to make of his new life or how to put his newfound strength to use. Urging him to be calm, she cradled his spirit like a loving mother.

After several long moments, the undead troll acquiesced and stood before her, and spoke in Zandali, "Mother. I serve."

"Mother?" Drakuru repeated, looking to Theryn with amusement.

Shrugging helplessly, she grinned back at him.

Circling around behind her, Drakuru put an arm around her in what might have been a gesture of affection. Then, after a moment, he pulled back in surprise, and put a hand in front of her face. Tensing and holding her breath, she knew in an instant that he had realized her secret.

"You... you are _alive_?" He put some distance between them, walking back to the far side of the platform.

"Drakuru--" Theryn drew in a sharp breath.

"How could this be?" Drakuru said, wide-eyed in shock. "You would betray me? The Lich King had great plans for you. I had high hopes for you. I trusted you!"

"Drakuru, no, I didn't--"

"You will pay for your deceit with your life!"

He cast a shadow bolt toward her, striking her dead on, sending her stumbling back in pain. Inwardly groaning, she pulled out her bow reluctantly. This was the way it was going to be, then? Everything falling apart at what should have been a moment of triumph?

"I protect Mother!" the blightblood troll roared, charging toward Drakuru.

"Fuck," Theryn uttered. She could kill him. She could tell Stefan that this was her plan all along. She could claim victory and sabotage his efforts, or even take control of them herself. But no. "FUCK THAT!"

Drakuru threw a crystal toward her. It shattered on the ground at her feet, pelting her with shrapnel and releasing a toxic vapor. She staggered and fell to the ground, bleeding from a dozen cuts and rapidly feeling very ill. On the far side of the rooftop platform, she was distantly aware of the blightblood pummeling Drakuru before coming over toward her.

"Mother is hurt," the blightblood said. "I help Mother." He lifted a hand, and a steam of energized orange ichor infused her, restoring her strength. "I smash enemy now."

"Enough!" Drakuru cried. "I don't know why you've betrayed me, but this has cost you your future."

Desperately, Theryn willed the blightblood not to attack him as she climbed to her feet again. But at the edge of her vision, a large armored figure shimmered into view. The one she had seen briefly before, in Drak'Tharon Keep. The Lich King.

"Master, this mortal scum has double-crossed us!" Drakuru said.

"Mother says not to fight you," the blightblood rumbled.

"Drakuru, you have failed me," the Lich King intoned. "You promised me this mortal's life and soul. You insisted that she had potential. You gave her your trust and allowed her to betray you."

"No," Theryn murmured, then louder, "No!" She scrambled to place herself between Drakuru and the Lich King, and fell to her knees, only half intentionally.

"What is this?" the Lich King rumbled, looking down at her with eerily glowing blue eyes.

"Your Highness," she breathed raspily. "Let me serve you. Let me lead an army across Azeroth. We will slaughter everyone in our path and leave only death and destruction in our wake."

The Lich King turned to face her fully, pausing to gaze at her for a long moment. "Intriguing."

"What?" Drakuru said in confusion. "But... you..."

"Didn't intend to betray you since shortly after I got here," Theryn replied. "The-- the Ebon Blade sent me to spy on you. They probably wouldn't have let me leave their camp alive if they'd thought I would betray _them_ instead."

"So, you would willingly pledge to me your life and soul?" the Lich King said.

"Yes," Theryn said without hesitation. "Absolutely. I am yours, my lord."

"I accept your allegience," the Lich King echoed, then turned to Drakuru. "Drakuru! This mortal could have compromised operations in Zul'Drak. She could have killed you easily and destroyed everything you have worked for here. Fortunately for you, your trust was not misplaced. And yet you lay there broken while she stood victorious."

Without turning to look, she willed the blightblood. "Mother says to help you." A liquid, oozing sound spread toward where Drakuru lay.

"Rise, Theryn Shadowhand," the Lich King said, and she stood. "Tell me, would you be able to act as an infiltrator to the forces of the living in Northrend?"

"Um... I could try, my lord," Theryn said tentatively. "It could be problematic, though. Half the factions in Northrend want me dead, there's a bounty on my head as a traitor, and I already had to fake my own death once so far. But if you wish it, I will come up with a new disguise. There's probably someone out there who doesn't want to kill me yet. Maybe."

The Lich King rumbled in amusement. "No, that will not be necessary. Better an infiltrator who is not already despised by the living. No, I believe you will be better off on the front lines, regardless."

"Yes, my lord," Theryn said. "I am not very good at subtlety. But I can bring your troops to victory, and flow a river of blood through these lands."

"Conquer in my name and destroy all who would seek to oppose us," the Lich King said. "To that end, I hereby grant you the gift of immortality."

He raised his hand toward her, and a blizzard rushed through her, chilling her veins. She'd already been exposed to any amount of plague and ichor, but she wasn't prepared for the cold. She'd spent so much time cold and hungry, and now... the sensation settled in as her heart stopped, unable to beat against the ice any longer. The cold didn't hurt anymore, and no longer felt unpleasant. There was no more hunger, no more sickness, no more of dozens of small things she hadn't realized were weighing her down.

She looked down at her hands. More purple than lavender, now, and fingertips ending in sharp claws. She hadn't become quite so enormous as Drakuru had, but instead she felt quicker and more agile, and that was alright by her. This was... pretty well perfect. It was perfect. She had not even dreamed of the sort of perfection the Lich King had given her.

In her mind, she could feel him. Waiting. Watching. Whispering. They'd said she'd never be able to conceive of freedom. She could conceive of it, alright. But freedom to do what? What she wanted more than anything was to lead the undead into a glorious slaughter against the living. Destroy everyone who had ever slighted her.

"Thank you, my lord," Theryn said, bowing toward him. "I will not fail you."

"See to it that you do not," the Lich King said. "And one day you might realize your dreams and sate your bloodlust." He turned and departed, vanishing into black smoke.

Taking off her choker, she turned, and tossed it at Drakuru, where it clattered at his side. "Do get up, Drakuru. Do you need any more patching up?"

Drakuru stood slowly, looking at her in confusion. "I don't understand. Why did you deceive me if you were just going to..."

"Why did _you_?" Theryn replied. "I'm a little miffed still that you took credit for all I did." She shrugged. "I was going to tell you, you know. Why did you attack me? Did you really think that everything I had done had been a ruse?"

"It might have been..." Drakuru said. "What was I to think when I realized you were still alive and had been in disguise the whole time?"

"I kill for Mother?" the blightblood interjected.

Theryn grinned toothily. "Oh, yes. You will get the chance very soon." She looked back at Drakuru. "All this intertwined deception brought us to this point, but there was no true betrayal. It doesn't matter. There's no need for deception any longer."

"I really did love you," Drakuru murmured barely audibly.

"Yeah," Theryn said with a soft laugh. "And I loved you too. Frolicking like children in the Grizzly Hills seems so long ago now. Come on. We have work to do."

Her cold, unbeating heart held no love in it any longer. And she couldn't bring herself to care or feel its loss.


End file.
